


Bird Set Free

by thefloralpeach



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Angst, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, M/M, Secret Identity, Shitty childhoods, Sonia Kaspbrak's A+ Parenting, background benverly, background hanbrough
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-26
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:15:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 75,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23335246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thefloralpeach/pseuds/thefloralpeach
Summary: Richie Tozier grew up to be a hero.Eddie Kaspbrak grew up without anyone there to save him.What do you get when you cross an angry vigilante with a hero who's just trying his best?
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 123
Kudos: 217





	1. Energy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 1 TW: Sonia Kaspbrak and subsequent manipulation/abuse

It started out as a conspiracy, and quickly turned into national controversy.

Nobody’s sure exactly who was the first case- abilities manifesting at a young age, anywhere between seven and seventeen. Videos surfaced of young kids doing extraordinary things, some of which people assumed was photoshop, but some of which occurred on live social media videos. The videos increased in frequency, the reports of strange happenings poured in every day, and eventually the government had to come out with a public statement.

Apparently, superpowers exist now.

It was the only thing anyone could talk about for a solid year. As a middle schooler, all you could do was wait to see if you were next.

The Losers often found themselves in conversation about what powers they hoped to have.

“I hope I get shapeshifting. I’d turn into the hottest motherfucker this world has ever seen and take over the world,” Richie would say. 

Eddie never talked about it much, but he thought it might be nice to be immune to sickness. That way, maybe his mother would let him leave the house more… Or, maybe walking through walls would serve that purpose. He just wanted to be able to do what he wanted, and not be forced under her wing.

It was eighth grade when Eddie began to despise this hero stuff.

Instead of continuing his education with his friends, his mom decided to pull him out of school due to the fear that someone with powers would hurt him. She said that his ‘no good friends’ would end up accidentally hurting him, or some ignorant kid would get their power suddenly and Eddie would be a victim of it. Even when he reminded her that ability prevalence rates were pretty low, of course nothing could sway her.

So he said goodbye to seeing his friends in school, and hello to meeting up with them at every other possible moment; until his mother decided _that_ was also too dangerous. So, he remained in his house like a prisoner.

His friends visited though, of course they did. Eddie had a window, and the Losers were pretty good at climbing. Besides, Eddie didn’t think anything could keep Richie from finding him and bothering him. 

It’s a gross, rainy night when Richie makes a promise. 

It starts with pebbles thrown at his window- Richie’s signature greeting. Eddie tries not to think about how cheesy and romantic it is, but the thought crosses his mind anyway. 

He opens the window, and is promptly met with Richie shaking out his wet hair like a dog. Eddie makes a disgusted noise, which only draws laughter from the taller boy.

“You sure your ability isn’t being gross and annoying?” Eddie asks as Richie finishes climbing in, almost stumbling over his own feet. He clutches his hands to his chest, feigning hurt.

“I can _not_ believe you would insinuate something so hurtful, Eddie my love!”

Of all the nicknames in Richie’s arsenal, that one is definitely the worst. Eddie can be annoyed by Eds or the ever-popular Spaghetti, but when he pulls out something so cliche that it could be in a romcom, Eddie’s heart always skips a beat. He _hates_ it. And he also loves it.

Richie’s pulling stuff out from his backpack before he’s even sat on Eddie’s bed. It became a sort of tradition for Richie to bring Eddie some stuff that his mom wouldn’t let him have whenever he visited.

“What’s in the magic bag tonight?” Eddie asks, eyeing the bag of all-pink starbursts Richie already pulled out.

“Candy, of course,” Richie narrates, pulling out a bag of gummy worms and a jumbo snickers bar. “I also got you this cool magazine that talks about abilities and heroes, and this week’s newspaper.”

Richie would often bring Eddie stuff to read, stuff that clued him into what’s going on outside. Eddie’s mom allowed him a computer, but no internet, so Eddie relied on his friends for information about the world. It was a simple act that he cherished so much.

“Oh- I also made you this!” Richie announces, pulling out a CD from his bag. The cover is decorated with some crude doodles, and labelled ‘songs to help spaghetti forgetti his regretti’. He tosses it to Eddie, who immediately bursts into laughter.

“A CD? Isn’t that a bit old school?” 

Richie puts his arms up in defense. “Well, you don’t have internet or a damn phone, so what was I supposed to do? Send you a Youtube playlist?”

Eddie shrugs. “Alright, fair enough.” He ignores the way his heart quickens at the thought of Richie compiling a playlist for him. “So, what’s on it?”

“Ah, you need to play it to find out, my deah!” He responds, slipping into a hilariously poorly-accented Voice. Eddie shakes his head, covering his mouth in a weak attempt to muffle his laughter. “I have something else for you, too.”

Eddie calms himself then, and quirks an eyebrow up. “Do I wanna know?” He asks cautiously. Richie was known for following words like that with a wet willy or a pinch to his cheeks. But, the jokester only smiles in response.

“Yes, you do! How would you like to sneak out of here with me some night?” Richie offers, and Eddie’s eyes light up. “We can head over to the clubhouse-”

“God, you guys still have that?”

“Yes! We can go hang out there, and all the others will be there too! And we can get a pizza since we know you’ve been force fed, what, gluten-dairy-nut-free bullshit?”

Eddie laughs, so giddy and over the moon with excitement that he ignores his health concerns. Richie doesn’t think his allergies are real anyway, and Eddie isn’t so sure he disagrees. Regardless, how could he even think to be concerned about such trivial things when he has the chance to escape, to spend some time outside for the first time in months?

Of course, Eddie agrees to go. They make plans for the weekend, when Sonia would be at bingo night. Richie and the others would sneak around and help him out the window, and Eddie could sit on the back of one of their bikes on the way- since his own bike had been given away once he was put on house arrest. Eddie gives Richie a list of his favorite bands so Richie can make a playlist for the night, and together they plan a list of snacks to have. They pick out some choice movies as well, since Ben had said he could rent a projector from the library for the night. 

Eddie’s never been so excited for something in his entire life.

Friday comes after what seems like forever, and his mom leaves for bingo, and Eddie waits excitedly in his room. He reads a comic book to pass the time until 5 o’clock comes.

And then 6 o’clock comes.

Then 7 o’clock.

Something probably happened… maybe they couldn’t get away from their parents in time, so they just had to push things back.

8 o’clock.

9 o’clock.

And then Eddie’s mother pulls into the driveway, and he’s pissed. He’s angry, he’s furious, he’s…

_Crushed._

Saturday comes and goes, but nobody visits him.

Sunday is the same.

Eddie’s mother asks why he’s spending so much time in his room, and asks if he’s sick- he struggles to invent a lie that she’ll believe. So he tells her the truth- that he’s sad, that he misses his friends. Not that she does anything to help (“Oh honey, you’re so much safer without them anyway”), but she does leave him alone to brood.

This is the first week in months that he didn’t get a word from any of his friends. He’d never gone more than two days without Richie visiting him, but in the coming years, this would become the new normal.

For the next few years, the only company Eddie has is his mother. His overbearing, absolutely psychotic mother, who put helicopter moms to shame. 

It’s a month after Eddie’s abandoned that he’s able to catch a newscast while his mom naps in the middle of the day. It’s the 4 o’clock news, the headline reading ‘Superhero Madness: New Ability Registration Mandate to Pass, Increasing Regulation on Enhanced Abilities.’

He’s reading comic books, stories about _real_ superheroes. The media outlets he’d seen were all over calling this new phenomenon the “Age of Heroes” and shit that Eddie finds absolutely ridiculous. So a kid can learn things really quickly or make magnets stick to them- Spiderman is still cooler. Spiderman just wants to save people, he wants to save anyone who needs it, even those overlooked by other heroes. Spiderman doesn’t care about being big and flashy. He’s a real hero- not like these wannabes.

Regardless of his opinions, he tunes his attention to the news for a moment. It’s not often he actually gets to see what’s going on outside of his prison cell of a home.

“... Required not only to register their abilities, but to train at government-approved facilities. Officials say this mandate will assure that these enhanced individuals learn to manage their abilities, thus ensuring their safety and the safety of others. Opposition has arisen as well…”

Eddie rolls his eyes. Government-approved facilities? Please. This is the _least_ cool backstory he’s ever heard. Then he remembers, this _isn’t_ a backstory. Because this isn’t some cool hero story. This is real life, and in real life, his friends left him, and no hero is coming to save him.

It’s two years later when he manifests a power of his own.

The newscasts he’d been able to watch intermittently had reported that abilities seem to appear between the ages of ten and sixteen, as if a part of puberty. It made enough sense, Eddie figured at the time. He assumed after his thirteenth and fourteenth years passed that he’d never manifest anything- but he’d been wrong.

It’s nothing special, of course. He’s watching something on TV, not even the news or anything special, just some reality show, when he notices a weird light. He looks around, thinking at first that a lamp was suddenly turned on, but he quickly realizes it’s emitting from the palms of his hands.

“Huh…” he mutters. Light hands. Some freaking power, huh?

They don’t appear to do anything besides glow every so often. He debates whether or not to tell his mother, but ultimately he decides to hide it. What good would telling her do, anyway? What did he expect, praise? Comfort? No, he knew he would get nothing less than an hour of rambling about how much she now had to worry about, how much it would drain his energy, how much they had to fear from a soft little glow.

So, he hides it.

As much as he hates his stupid glowy hands at first, it starts to become a rather welcome feature.

He no longer has to hide a flashlight in his room for when he wants to read in bed- his own hands suffice now! Well, when he can get them to turn on, which isn’t all the time. He starts to understand all the hype he’d been seeing on the news about controlling abilities- if this were something dangerous, Eddie would surely be in some deep shit.

Every now and then, Eddie gets the gaul to ask his mom about things that he knew he wasn’t supposed to- if he could go out with her when she grabbed something, if he could return to school now that abilities are more regulated, if he could just go for a bike ride like he used to. The answer is always no, of course. 

The only time he’s allowed out of the house is for visits to the doctor, which have also become less often for some reason. Eddie wonders why his medications remain the same even though he’s being seen less.

Sometimes, his mom gets tired of his curiosity. 

“Eddie, you _know_ why you have to stay in here, you know it! I can’t risk losing you, Eddie-bear. Do you know how many people are being attacked every day by these new monsters?!”

“But mom-”

“I don’t let you watch the news because it’s so terrible, every day there’s more attacks and more people _sick_ and _dead_ , I just can’t bear it!”

Eddie wants to tell her that he sees the news when she doesn’t think he’s watching, that things are starting to stabilize, that crime rates haven’t actually gone up that much and that people aren’t actually being attacked- but of course she doesn’t let him get a word it. It’s part of her defense against Eddie trying to fight back.

“Mom, _listen_ to me, _please_ -”

“Do you want to do that to me? Eddie-bear, you know how hard it’s been after I-” she sniffles for effect, “After I lost your poor father. I can’t risk losing you too, honey, you _know_ that-”

“Mom will you just _listen to me_?!” He raises his voice, earning a gasp from his mother. The look on her face is almost scandalized. He doesn’t realize why until he gestures in frustration with his hands, and he notices a familiar glow. “I just want-”

“EDDIE!”

She interrupts him, running over and fawning over him until his glow dims and eventually fades. He’s bombarded with questions about how this could have happened, how could she ever let him out now, how they had to make extra sure to be careful, blah blah blah. He promptly loses all hope of ever getting out of there.

She corrals him to the stairs and up to his room, her shrill voice running nonstop the entire time. Eddie tries to tune it out, but it’s hard- she’s persistent, and his hopes are crushed. He hears the lock on his door click as she leaves.

Eddie barely notices the glow of his hands as he punches his pillow. He spends ten, maybe twenty minutes just punching, screaming, doing what he can to get his frustration out. Once he slows down, giving his poor bedsheets a break, he realizes that the glow has spread to just above his elbows. 

“Stupid fucking glowy hands…” he mutters, glaring at them as if that would get it to stop. Of course, it doesn’t.

With a sigh, Eddie drags himself over to his bookshelf, grabbing something that sounds mildly interesting so he could distract himself from his stupid emotions and his stupid situations and his stupid hands. As he glances over the other options, his eyes land on something he hadn't looked at in years- Richie’s mix CD. ‘Songs to help spaghetti forgetti his regretti’. The glow in his hands fades as Eddie traces over the shitty doodles on the cover, and a ghost of a smile settles on his face.

He’s still pissed off that everyone abandoned him. He’s confused, he’s frustrated, he’s angry and he’s hurt- but most of all, he’s nostalgic. More than anything, he misses his friends, and he just wants it all back. He likes to think that there’s a good reason that they left him, and that they’ll be reunited one day and everything will be happily ever after- but he also knows that’s just a lot of wishful thinking. 

Eddie breaks his thoughts by popping the CD into the player on his radio, pressing ‘play’, and flopping on his bed. 

He closes his eyes, smiling to himself as the first notes of Neil Young’s Harvest Moon drift into the room. The CD plays on repeat until Eddie falls asleep for the night.

* * *

The next day, Eddie is horrified when his mother hires someone to install bars on his bedroom window. _It’s for your safety, Eddie,_ she insists. _The government is getting involved now, I can’t let them take you away._

But he knows they wouldn’t take him away. He knows he isn’t that lucky.

And he has the sneaking suspicion that his mother would have installed the bars whether or not the government was a concern.

Eddie’s hands don’t glow as bright anymore after that, though he isn’t sure why. Maybe he hated that stupid power so much that it’s in the process of disappearing- he hopes that’s the case. If he can prove he’s normal, then maybe one day he can leave.

In the next year, Eddie catches many newscasts about ability regulation. He managed to convince his mom to let him watch the news a little bit, because current events was something he had to be versed on in order for his home school requirements. She wasn’t happy about it, but ultimately he gets to watch the news more regularly now. 

It’s something Eddie never quite cared about, news. When he was twelve and thirteen, the news was the most boring thing he could ever think of watching. But now, it’s a connection to the world he no longer gets to be a part of.

The last he’d heard, a few months back, was how the government had started allowing those with trained abilities to register as heroes. Their official title was something boring, of course- The National Force of Enhanced Individuals or something dumb like that. But everyone calls them heroes. Crime rates had been steadily decreasing since they passed the bill creating the force, and maybe, just maybe Eddie gets his hopes up when he hears that.

He hasn’t asked his mom about going outside in a while, but during this newscast, he thinks maybe he has a chance…

“So, that’s great, huh?” Eddie ventures from his spot on the couch, looking expectantly at his mother. 

She’s sitting in her recliner, as she does most of the time, her attention on some magazine rather than the television. In response, she hums in question, not even bothering to look up.

“The- the Force of Enhanced Individuals…” he gestures to the screen. “Seems they’re lowering the crime rate. That’s great, right?” He cautiously explains, wary of the fact that this conversation could go to hell at any second. 

She raises an eyebrow, glancing at Eddie for only a mere second.

“I suppose so, yes. It’s about time these streets got safer. You never know what could happen out there.”

Eddie pauses for a moment.

“So… it seems like things are more regulated now. More than they were a few years ago, I mean…”

She puts her magazine down then, switching her focus over to Eddie. “Eddie-Bear, I know you’re not trying to ask me to leave again, right? Because you know we’ve talked about this. You know why you have to stay here.” 

And, there goes his plan.

His eyes are pleading, and he tries his best to sound reasonable, to make a point.

“I don’t- I don’t want to go far, just… I want to be outside more than just doctors visits, Mom! It’s not healthy for me to stay in here-”

“Don’t use your health on me! I know _everything_ about your health, Eddie, and I know that you’re much better off in here, _safe._ ”

“I just want to go- go to the store with you maybe, or the library, or hang out in the backyard- I mean look, Mom, crime rates are down more than they’ve ever been! Heroes are _protecting_ people!”

“Stop asking, Eddie.”

Her voice is so _calm_ , so sure that Eddie feels like he wants to explode. He clenches his fists, and again, that familiar glow is back.

“No! I shouldn’t even _have_ to ask, Ma!”

“Don’t you start this with me-”

“Most kids my age are outside all the time! They go to school, they go out with their friends, they _do_ things! I don’t even know where my friends _are_!” He yells back, ignoring her retorts.

“Your _friends_ don’t come here anymore, and it’s better for you that way! They were terrible influences, you don’t need them, Eddie-”

“I’d like to know where they went, why they left! I’d like to have the chance to look for them at least! Christ, Mom, this is a prison!” He gesticulates wildly in front of himself, pleading with his hands without noticing that they’re exactly why he won’t win this fight. 

“Eddie, do not raise your voice with me. You’re scaring me, honey!” Eddie knew this tone well. “Why don’t you go upstairs and calm-”

“I DON’T WANT TO CALM DOWN, MA!”

As he yells, he swiftly throws his hands down to his sides, and _something_ happens.

He can’t put words to it, but he _feels_ a sort of tingling heat in his hands, and the next second he hears a crash- no, two crashes, one on each side of him. 

Everything is silent for a moment, even his mother. Her mouth hangs open, though no words come out, and she’s looking at Eddie with something between shock and horror on her face. She turns her attention to Eddie’s left, and instinctively, he does the same.

There’s a visible dent in the wall there, as if somebody strong had punched it. Almost cautiously, Eddie turns his head to the other side, and notices an equal dent in the cabinet. Each dent is equal height, and Eddie knows what happened.

He’s still processing it, and he doesn’t _want_ to be right, but he knows.

“Eddie…”

Her voice is so low, Eddie barely processes it. His eyes glance between the dents, then to the floor.

“Yeah… I’ll go to my room.”

* * *

After that, his visits to the doctor decrease exponentially so, only once every few months. But he’s given more medication than he’s ever had before. Given his little ‘condition’, he’s not surprised. It’s probably messing with his system somehow, and the medicine is helping with symptoms he hasn’t even noticed yet.

He feels tired all the damn time, even though he goes to bed early and wakes up a little on the later side. When he’s not doing his work or watching something completely idiotic that his mom insists he must join her for, he’s either napping or staring into space. It’s annoying- maybe that’s one of the things that the medicine is helping. Or maybe he’s just fucking depressed, who knows.

He’s also confined to his room most of the time, and his mom locks the door when she goes out. After his outburst, he assumes she doesn’t trust him, and he can’t be too mad this time, he knows. She’s just trying to keep him safe, of course.

He doesn’t have much schooling left. He still gets to watch the news for current events, but only when supervised by his mom. And, it’s better than nothing. He does okay on the work he’s given, although he knows it’s all minimum-effort curricula. 

He has video games to keep him occupied, and a fair amount of books. His mom gets him things sometimes while she’s out, which is nice of her. 

He’s also been trying to control his abilities.

Maybe it’s stupid. All he has are glowy hands… but he knows they’re capable of _something_ else if they were able to mess up the walls that day. And if he knows anything about superpowers from the comics he reads, he knows that it’s much better for everyone if he controls this thing before he accidentally learns more about it.

It takes a lot of work to learn how to make them glow on command. It takes a lot of focus, and a solid month before he actually does it for the first time when he wants to, instead of it just appearing. 

Awesome- now he can use his own personal flashlight whenever he needs it. Whenever his mom says “lights out” at 10pm and he still isn’t tired, or when he drops something and doesn’t have a phone flashlight to help him find it.

And it’s cool, it’s a great feeling actually, to be able to have a little bit of control over this shit. But it’s not enough.

Eddie’s mom is out grocery shopping, so naturally he’s locked in his room. He dreams one day of being able to blast the door open somehow, but he’s far from that. He dented the walls a little bit exactly one time, so he’s not exactly the pinnacle of power here.

But… maybe someday he could be.

A stool sits by Eddie’s window as a perch. He sits down as he opens his window, thankful that the weather is warming up, and for a moment he forgets his goal here. The open window is the closest he gets to being outside anymore, and every time he smells the natural air, he finds himself longing for the days he used to spend out in it. He misses biking around town, he misses the barrens, he misses the clubhouse in the forest. But a window is better than nothing.

He physically shakes his head to refocus himself.

Outside his window are several trees- his targets. It’s almost surreal, realizing exactly what he’s about to do, but he knows it’s important.

“Focus…” He whispers to himself, nestling his arm between two of the metal bars that lined his window now. He rests it lightly on the windowsill, spreading his palms as if trying to use the force.

Except, this isn't the force. He’s not drawing anything to him, he’s trying to push it _away_. 

His hands glow, which is no longer anything special to him. He figures they’ll glow brighter as he focuses more, as he prepares for… well, whatever he’s capable of, but at the moment, he doesn’t notice anything.

Thoughts keep crawling into his mind- how much he wishes to go back outside, to see his friends again, to _have_ friends again. 

As his mind wanders, the glow spreads up his arms, gradually becoming lighter. But, he’s not focusing. He’s reminiscing, he’s yearning for what he once had, and what he _could_ have if he wasn’t in this stupid fucking house. 

Wait, no.

Eddie shuts his eyes tight, willing the thoughts from his mind.

“I said _focus_ , dammit.”

When he opens his eyes, he stares at the tree in front of his window, aiming his hand at it. He takes a deep breath, thinks of nothing but the tree, and-

And nothing happens. 

Clenching his fist for a moment, he takes another breath and decides to try again. Hand through the window, eyes on the tree, focus on power. Mind clear, hand glowing, energy flowing, and…

Still nothing.

Eddie tries this for a solid half an hour before he gives up, slumping over his stool and resting his head against the bars. Maybe that weird blast thing was just a fluke, and there was no way to control it. Or, maybe it’s based on like, what he eats, or what he does during the day. Maybe he has a lot more investigating to do before he can actually make his powers do anything besides give him glowy hands.

The world outside the window catches his attention again, and he spends some time just watching it. It’s a nice day out; he can hear kids playing down the street, birds chirping, he can see squirrels and chipmunks scampering around, and there’s barely a cloud in the sky. Four years ago, he’d have been all over a day like this- riding his bike, relaxing in the barrens or by the quarry with his friends…

It’s not fair. It’s not fair that his front door is locked from the outside, that his own bedroom door is locked to keep him in, and that he’s a prisoner in his own home. It’s not fair that the only thing he wants to do is _get out,_ to _run_ , but he can’t. He’d trigger his asthma anyway.

It’s not fucking fair that he can’t even escape out of a window because there are fucking bars on it, it’s not fucking fair that everyone he knew, everyone who was ever kind to him had just up and _left_ him why would they do that? _Why did they do that?_

(Eddie’s hands glow brighter, but he doesn’t notice.)

Was he really so forgettable that his friends could move on so easily? Or was that his mom’s plan all along? Had she told them to fuck off one day, and they all just listened? The school district still has to check on him regularly to make sure his mother is following the law- had they really noticed nothing? Or had he just never been worth the second thought?

(His hands are shaking, still resting on the windowsill.)

Richie made him a damn _mixtape_ , for christ’s sake! A mixtape! You don’t do that for people you don’t care about, you don’t do that and then _abandon_ them, forget about them, leave them to their warden of a mother and a lifetime of no real fucking human interaction.

(There’s a faint vibration in Eddie’s palms.)

Eddie clenches his jaw, runs his hands through his hair before placing them back between the bars, and shuts his eyes.

Fuck heroes. Fuck superpowers. Fuck this whole organization, the one that spiked fear into everyone and _feeds_ off of it. Eddie’s mom is scared, now Eddie has to suffer for it, and there’s nobody coming to save him. These people have the balls to call themselves heroes, but who the hell are they saving?

“Fuck…”

(His palms brighten.)

“FUCK!”

Eddie slams his hands down against the windowsill and feels it before he sees it. _Energy._ Pure energy. And it came right from his hands, he knows it did. 

The glow of his hands dimmed to a dull shimmer, and there’s an obvious dent in the tree that had been perfect just a minute before.

Like last time, everything is still for a moment, oddly quiet. Eddie can only stare ahead of him at the injured trunk. He flicks his gaze to his hands, still tingling, still glowing.

So. _That’s_ how his power is going to work, then.

* * *

After a few months of “good behavior”, Eddie’s mom stops locking him in his room when she goes out. It’s a start, he figures. 

He “graduates” that spring, but there’s no ceremony, no speeches, no cap and gown. He gets a cupcake though, which is nice. 

The news is still filled with stories about heroes, about thrilling stories of rescue, about new agencies funding research and training and about crime rates plummeting. It’s all good news in theory, but Eddie can’t help the pings of jealousy he feels for all the happy people he sees rescued.

_Rescued._

Nobody’s come to rescue him. Nobody even looks for a situation like his- it’s not a flashy villain he needs to be rescued from. He’s in no mortal danger, not even any physical danger in all honesty. But does that make him any less miserable? 

No.

And how many other kids are in similar situations? How many other people need saving, but are ignored for all this flashy hero and villain fantasy shit? Eddie thinks about these things a lot. But it’s not like he can do anything about it.

Something good, he guesses, is that he’s gotten better at damaging that poor tree outside his window. The trunk and some of the wider branches have visible scars, though they still aren’t much. Maybe he’s confined to small blasts or something, but it’s still kind of cool.

So his powers are tied to emotions? Good. He’s got a lot of those. And he thinks about them when he wants to channel his energy- that must be what his power is, technically. Energy. 

It makes sense that he’s exhausted after he practices, in that case. He tries not to show it, though- he doesn’t want his mom to have any more reason to worry about him or keep him confined. 

It’s a Tuesday afternoon in July when she runs to the store, and Eddie gets a few hours to himself for what he’s been calling target practice in his head. He doesn’t know what he plans to do with his tiny blasts of energy, but he figures it’s better to be able to have some sort of handle on them than to just have the ability to do it and no idea how.

Like always, he’s tired after he fires off a few blasts- both physically and emotionally. He thinks about those news stories, the smug faces of all those self-proclaimed heroes. He thinks about his situation, how he longs to leave, how he may as well be in an actual prison. It’s good stuff to keep in his mind when he wants to practice, but it’s hard to come down from, and it always just reminds him of how fucked his life is. 

Sighing, Eddie pushes himself off his stool, taking a moment to stretch his arms over his head. A snack and a nap sound absolutely perfect right about now, so he decides to do just that. 

He pads out of his room and downstairs, a little tempted to turn on the TV, but he was sure his mom would have some way of figuring out that he’d done it- she probably had cameras or something installed, or motion sensors, or a battery monitor on the remote. Something weird and over controlling, of course. It’s expected by now.

While Eddie rummages through the pantry, he understands why his mother had to go out. They were low on snacks of pretty much every kind, and he was gonna have to make something if he actually wanted food. Maybe pasta, that was an easy choice.

Spaghetti.

The voice of an old friend echoes in Eddie’s head, and he finds himself smiling softly before he closes the pantry door. 

If he’s gonna make something, he may as well check to make sure they have cooking spray, and maybe some spices. Not that Eddie’s the best cook ever, since he’s not often allowed in the kitchen, but if he has to make something he’d rather it be edible and not something bland that sticks to the pot.

Okay, so he has no idea how to use spices besides like, salt and garlic, but he can still experiment.

Step one- learn where the spices are.

Eddie isn’t allowed to cook, really. Anything he’d done, he’d done while his mom was out. And it’s not like she’s the lord of good cooking, so Eddie’s also pretty amateur. 

Finally, he opens a cabinet and finds some usable stuff next to the nonperishables. Garlic powder, some extra salt and pepper, oregano, basil, some extra baking soda and baking powder… and some old pill bottles? He takes the containers to inspect them, curious.

One of the bottles is labelled Phenobarbital, and the others Lorazepam. 

That’s Nembutal and Ativan.

Sedatives.

His first thought is, obviously, that they’re just more medications lying around the house. It wouldn’t be surprising, since his mother seemed to always be going to another doctor, and she used to take him nearly once a week.

His second thought is that they had a set medicine cabinet, one that was organized by need. Why would she move them to a food cabinet instead?

And his third thought is one that scares him to death. Suddenly, he’s wondering if it’s not his powers that are making him feel drained.

Because, what had his mother ever needed sedatives for? Sure, one doubles as an anxiety medication, but there’s no way in hell Eddie is lucky enough for his mom to actually seek help for her paranoia. 

Tentatively, Eddie opens one of the bottles, and he recognizes the pills as ones he’s given… often.

His breaths quicken, and he wants his inhaler but it’s upstairs- and is it even an inhaler? Or is there something else in there that his mom didn’t tell him about?

Suddenly the bottle is shaking in his hand, his fist clenched around it as the pills rattle around inside. And suddenly, it’s much brighter in the room than it was before. He feels a familiar vibration in the palm of his hands.

“Eddie-bear!”

He hadn't even heard the door open. But he heard that voice. _Her_ voice. That grating, shrill, helicopter voice. It only gets worse once she finds him in the kitchen, her footsteps quickening as she rushes over to him.

“Eddie-bear, what are you doing? What’s going on honey, put that down, you need to take your pills and go to your room-”

Eddie’s eyes are glued to the bottle. 

Sedatives. Fucking _sedatives_. 

He knew she didn’t trust him, but he didn’t think it would have come to this. He never thought she’d flat out lie to him like this.

His jaw is clenched, and he swallows down a lump in his throat as his mother keeps babbling.

“What the fuck is this, ma?”

She gasps as if scandalized. As if she has the right to be shocked, or to be upset at anything Eddie does after pulling this shit.

“Eddie- honey, you know that’s just your medicine. You’re _sick_ -”

“These are sedatives, don’t lie to me.” He snaps his head up, glaring into his mother’s eyes. She takes a step back, looking at him like he’s some dangerous monster. And, hell, maybe he is.

“Eddie you- you needed them-” her tone is pleading, and it just pisses Eddie off more. “You- you needed something to _help_ you, oh God-”

The fear is evident on her face, and the only thing Eddie feels is rage. 

“Help me? You think that was _helping_ me?” He drops the pill bottle then, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. “You-”

“Eddie, your eyes-”

“You _drugged_ me!”

“God, have mercy-”

“YOU FUCKING DRUGGED ME!”

Eddie gestures in front of him, and watches with not-so-much horror as his mom stumbles backwards with an audible shriek. 

There’s a moment where he wants to panic. But the anger takes over again, and he doesn’t care what happens to her. He doesn’t care what he did. He doesn’t care.

He needs to get away, he needs to go be alone. He takes off towards his room, but pauses as he catches a glimpse of his reflection in one of his kitchen’s glass cabinets.

His eyes… his eyes are glowing, just like his hands.

No pupils, no hazel iris, no whites. Just a glow, like a flashlight.

Before he has to listen to more shrieking, Eddie all but runs upstairs, slamming his door with more force than he thought he had in him. If he didn’t know better, he’d think he felt the house shake with the action.

He rushes to the window then, his body _shaking_ with how fucking angry he is, and throws it open. Reaching both hands out in front of him, he aims, and it doesn’t take a second thought to fire a blast.

It’s easy when he thinks about everything, and when he feels like there’s so much… so much _energy_ pent up inside him that he could burst.

The dent he makes in the tree is _much_ more noticeable this time.

He grits his teeth, and fires another.

_Fuck her. Fuck everybody._

A branch falls. 

He fires another blast.

_Fuck “heroes”. Fuck this society. Fuck this whole fucking world._

He hears his mom getting up from downstairs. And he’s not fucking sorry. Not one bit.

* * *

Eddie doesn’t speak to his mom after that.

He avoids going downstairs, and eventually she starts bringing meals up to him, pills in a neat little pile on the side. 

They taunt him, the little white tablets. At first, he’s not sure which ones are the sedatives, and which ones he actually needs. But he’s not sure how much he cares anymore.

He stops taking all of them. 

And, surprise surprise, nothing happens. 

He doesn’t say anything, though. He takes the medication and hides it in a small box under his bed, covered by comics so his mom doesn’t find it if she ever decides to snoop around. And, after all this shit, he wouldn’t put it past her. 

He’s 18 now. Most kids his age are going to college, going to work, moving out, doing _something_. 

And Eddie? He’s making a plan.

He notices his mom trying to slip him more medication. And he’s wary of anything that she might be able to sneak a powder into. 

He must be successful in avoiding her attempts to drug him, because he feels more alive, more energetic than he had at any time in the past two years. 

The stool near his window becomes Eddie’s new best friend. Now that his energy is back, he’s better than ever at controlling his blasts.

He knows his emotions help it along, and he learns that the brighter the glow of his hands, the stronger the blast he can emit; and he learns that his blasts can be _strong_. It’s during a particularly intense storm that Eddie tests the waters a little more, and ends up knocking over one of the trees outside his window. 

If he can knock over a tree, then surely he can knock out a wall, right?

He bides his time, but it takes everything in him to pretend like things are normal. He waits for winter to pass, paying moderate attention to the news when his mom goes out and storing up some essentials. Nothing too conspicuous- a jar of peanut butter here, a box of crackers there, and a few twenties from the stash in her room.

He doesn’t know exactly what he’s gonna do or where he’ll end up, so he does his best to prepare for anything.

He keeps a bag under his bed, right next to the box of discarded pills. His mom hasn’t been too nosy about his room- why would she have any reason to be, since he rarely leaves it anyway. By February, the bag consists of a few comics, the supplies he’d stolen from the kitchen, and the money. By March, he adds more money, two changes of clothes, a bottle of water, and a blanket. He wants to be prepared in case he has to leave early.

By May, the weather has evened out, the days sunny and long. 

Eddie barely interacts with his mom, and something tells him she doesn’t much mind. She’ll insist on an “I love you” every now and then, but Eddie obliges in order to keep her at bay. He’s learned to play the part of the perfect, quiet, sedated little boy.

It’s a Saturday late in the month when Eddie decides it’s time.

His mother is downstairs, watching some mind-numbingly stupid reality show. He does one last check on his bag, making sure he had everything. He’d been able to steal about $250 without his mother noticing, which he figured was enough to get him, well, _somewhere_. Everything else is in place- even his inhaler, for good measure. 

He slips on his best sneakers, which didn’t have much wear in them, since he’d been outside maybe ten times in the past two or three years. His clothes are comfortable, with a hoodie tied around his waist and a watch around his wrist for good measure. 

He takes a step back, standing in the middle of his room with his bag slung over his shoulder. Soon… soon he’d be out. Taking a deep breath, Eddie raises his hands to the same height as the window, and he focuses his energy-

Until something catches his eye.

Something he spent a lot of nights listening to. Something he wants so badly to hate, but he can’t. It gives him too much nostalgic joy. 

‘Songs to help spaghetti forgetti his regretti’

Eddie swallows a lump in his throat as he stands perfectly still, eyes glued to the little CD, sitting besides his portable player. 

Part of him wants to leave it, to forget everything about this part of his life and start over, brand new. But, as much as he wants to forget everyone, to forget the Losers club, to forget _Richie_ , he can’t. He can’t bring himself to do that.

With a huff, he grabs the CD, placing it safely in Richie’s stupid little case. He shoves them in his bag, then returns to the middle of the room, facing his window.

He can almost hear his mom’s voice in his ear, urging him to stop, telling him he’s too weak, that he won’t survive out there, that he should just stay safe here with her. 

“Fuck you,” he responds to no one. 

Again, Eddie raises his hands, angling them towards the window.

“This one’s for you, Ma.”

_Boom._


	2. Force

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something happened to Richie when he was young that set the course of his life as a hero.

At first, Richie thinks it’s the coolest thing ever. Superpowers, super _heroes,_ super everything! What’s not to love?

Turns out, the answer is Henry fucking Bowers.

God, he was a jerk _before_ developing abilities, always picking on whatever unfortunate bastard crossed his path. But, Richie and his friends learn quickly that Bowers with the newfound ability to control projectiles is so, _so_ much worse. 

It’s after school on a Friday afternoon, and Operation: Rescue Eddie From His Dumb Fucking House and Have Fun is officially underway. The other Losers aren't too keen on his choice of operation name, but Richie figures they’ll come around soon enough. They have a plan, and Richie, Bill, and Ben stop by the corner store, Stevie’s, to grab some snacks for that night. 

They’ll have to explain to Eddie that Stan got taken away, and update him on the new Ability laws that passed. Richie’s sure _that_ will be a fun conversation. He’d been preparing jokes for it though- leave it to Stan, king of the birds, to fucking manifest wings as his Ability. Richie only wishes Stan were there to suffer through his teasing- but, he figures he’ll be back soon. This bullshit “Ability Registration” law can’t last forever.

Besides… Richie doesn’t think he can handle it if they take Bill away from him too. 

And anyways, they can’t expect parents to just leave their kids in government “care” for the rest of their lives. He’s starting to think Eddie’s not so crazy for being wary of all this hero stuff.

“So! Billy Boy! Can you like, read minds and shit now?” Richie spouts as he trails behind the others, arms crossed behind his head. 

“Richie!” Bill and Ben hiss at once, though Bill’s look is certainly more pointed than Ben’s.

“Sh-sh-shut up, Rich. You don’t know who could be listening…” Bill murmurs.

“Can’t you just mind control them to leave you alone?” Richie says as he wiggles his fingers in an exaggerated gesture.

“I don’t really know how it w-w-w-works, Rich. I’m as new to it as you are.”

“Ah, you’ll figure it out.” Richie waves his hand in dismissal. “So first Staniel, now you. What are the chances you think we’ll all get something?”

Ben is suddenly very interested in his fingers, fidgeting with them rather than answering. Richie catches on quick, his eyes widening almost comically.

“Haystack, you lying bastard! You manifested?”

Ben flinches as Richie claps him on the back.

“N-no! I didn’t lie, I just, I didn’t have a chance to tell you guys yet, that’s all-”

“Well stop yappin’, man! What you got?”

Bill sighs. Richie is no stranger to the exasperation, but he couldn’t care less. He just wants to know what cool shit his friends can do.

Ben looks down at the ground, his bashful nature showing through the motion.

“I don’t know _everything_ , but yesterday I went to go fix up the clubhouse... y’know, for tonight, little renos and what not to make sure it’s up to Eddie-standards. And the, the rocks and dirt and such, it just kinda moved on its own when I touched it?” He explains, shrugging.

“No shit! Benny boy, you’re like a fucking earthbender!”

That gets a laugh from Bill, at least. Ben just rubs the back of his neck, shy grin on his face.

“I don’t know, maybe. I haven’t really tested it out, ya know? I don’t wanna be taken like Stan…”

A silence falls between the three of them at that. 

Sure, they all joked that Stan was gonna be fine, that he was going to bird camp and he’d return to them soon. Besidess, Derry sucked anyway, so he was probably better off not being in their shitty Maine town. But, it’s still unsettling to think that any of them could just be uprooted like that in the blink of an eye.

As usual, Richie is the one to break the silence.

“Don’t worry, Haystack. We’ll set up a training ring in the clubhouse and Billy Mindgame here can make sure nobody saw anything.”

This gets another laugh, and that’s the only thing Richie wants, really. To make them laugh.

Bill playfully shoves him. “You’re such a turd, Rich.”

“What can I say, I’m-” Richie’s response is cut off when he notices the Bowers’ gang hanging outside Stevie’s. 

The gangly teenagers are leaning against the wall as if they own the place, but it’s all too soon they straighten up as they catch sight of their new prey.

“Christ, okay, abort mission. Eddie will be fine without snacks, right?” Richie says, and they all three simultaneously swivel on their heels. But unfortunately for them, they’ve been spotted.

“Well if it isn’t my favorite losers!”

Richie stops in his tracks, shutting his eyes and groaning. They’d all learned long ago that it was a better idea to just stop and get it over with than to try running and risk getting caught, especially when they were with Ben; he’s the sweetest out of all of them, but the boy can’t run for shit. 

“And if it isn’t my favorite mullet,” Richie finds himself saying, running his mouth before he can even think twice about it. He’s lucky that Bowers was far enough away that he didn’t hear him.

“What was that, four-eyes?”

“I asked what you wanted,” he lies. 

Behind Bowers, like always, are Belch, Vic, and Hockstetter. Something about the latter two looked different, their skin reflecting a bizarre texture and eyes almost reptilian in appearance. 

Richie is surprised they haven’t been taken away yet for that alone. But, he guesses that would be way too lucky for him. 

“What, I need an excuse to say hi to my best friends?” Henry Bowers jeers.

The guy is tolerable as a normal bully, with insults, physical assaults, and all that. But it’s a whole new level of unnerving when he gets eerily friendly like this. 

He strides over to the group, the rest of the gang right behind him like a pack of well-trained dogs. Richie keeps himself in front of Bill and Ben. If he can take the brunt of it for them, he doesn’t mind. As long as they’re done with him in time so they can continue Operation: Rescue Eddie From His Dumb Fucking House and Have Fun...and as long as they kept him intact enough to walk.

“Yeah, hi to you too pal. If it’s cool, I’m just gonna go and grab some stuff from-” Richie starts, but is stopped with a grunt as Bowers grabs him roughly by the shoulder. 

“Grabbing stuff? Isn’t that just a waste of time, boys?” Bowers mocks as he glances back at his gang. The other three sneer and laugh in a way that sends shivers down Richie’s spine.

Richie normally loves laughter. It’s his favorite thing, a symbol of joy and happiness; but this? This is laughter that forewarns something awful, and Richie cannot help the feeling of dread that settles in the pit of his stomach

“I think we have something a lot more fun for you guys,” he growls, leering at Richie in particular; he was always one of Bowers’ favorites because of his stupid loud mouth, lucky him. “I was thinking, _target practice_.”

The way Bowers snarls as he says it strikes absolute fear into the three boys, and Richie actually considers making a run for it.

Instead, he smiles and chuckles awkwardly before worming his way out of Bowers’ grip. 

“You know what, I think we’re good today, but maybe next time fellas, what do you say?”

Richie doesn’t know what he was expecting given that Bowers and his goonies aren’t exactly known for leaving people alone or letting a fight go unless they were caught by, well, someone who actually _can_ stop them. But target practice? That carries some heavy implications, none of which Richie is very fond of.

“I don’t think that’s for you to decide,” Bowers growls, eyes locked menacingly onto Richie. “Right boys? I think it’s time we have a little fun, right?” 

The other goons laugh along, like villains in a movie.

Richie thinks that it would be pretty great to Manifest the ability to melt into the ground right about then.

Bowers reaches down then, grabbing a handful of stones from the unpaved ground.

“Um- maybe we should-” Poor Ben tries to speak up, only to be interrupted by Bowers’ maniacal cackling as he tosses the stones up into the air. 

The three await an impact, but it doesn’t come. They all realize simultaneously that Bowers threw the rocks straight into the air- not towards them, which is weird, but soon enough the rocks take an abrupt turn.

And they head right towards Richie.

“Fucking Christ-” he whispers, throwing his backpack in front of his face to block the falling projectiles. 

Instead of hitting him though, they turn abruptly yet again to hurtle towards Bill. He uses his schoolbag as a defense too, and they actually hit. 

Richie looks at his friends with wide eyes as the bullies in front of them laugh.

“I think it’s time to start running now,” Bill mutters low enough so only his friends can hear. 

Richie doesn’t need to be told twice.

They take off as fast as they can, only to be halted as bigger, more threatening stones shoot in their direction. 

“Take cover!” Richie yells.

All three are lucky that their school bags are with them, because they’re doubling as shields for the time being as Bowers continues using stones as fucking bullets. All the while, Vic, Belch, and Hockstetter are just laughing like it’s all some kind of top-tier comedic entertainment. Which, in all honesty, it probably is for them.

“Where are you going? Party’s just getting started!” One of them yells, but Richie isn’t sure who. He just knows he needs to _move_ , that they all do, and that maybe it’s about time that Earthbender and Mindgame over here put their Abilities to the test. 

As the thought enters Richie’s mind, he pulls Ben and Bill over to an alleyway between two shops, out of sight for the time being. He knows better than to think it’s over though, because surely the gang would come searching them out soon.

“Okay, worst case scenario, Bowers Manifested and now we’re dealing with more than his shitty pocket knife. Any plans?” Richie doesn’t wait for an answer. “Okay, cool. So, both of you have Abilities-”

“Richie, I’m n-n-n-not doing that. Not n-n-now, anyone could be watching-”

“Yeah, but they’re _not_ , or else they would’ve taken all four of ‘em away. Well, maybe not Belch, unless his Ability is being uglier than normal-”

“Beep beep, Rich.”

“Right, right. Sorry.”

Ben stands off to the side, fear in his eyes as the other two bicker about a course of action. 

“Guys, I think we should just get out of here,” Ben’s ever-reasonable voice chimes in, but all too soon afterwards comes Bowers’ chillingly sadistic one.

“Where’d you losers go? We’re starting to get bored again,” Bowers yells.

He’s in the alleyway then, blocking the exit. 

_Smooth move, Richie_ . He mentally curses at himself for getting them into this shit, because now there’s no way out. There’s no way _out of here_ , damn it! 

“Oops… my bad, guys…”

Henry has another handful of stones, sharp-looking ones that look like they would hurt if they were just thrown normally. But _this_ Henry, throwing, throwing them with supernatural force from the air? They’re almost like bullets.

“Not your fault, Richie. W-w-we might need to put your plan into action, though.”

“Is it safe to?” Ben asks, visibly shaking even though his Ability is probably the most powerful out of the seven of them.

They don’t have much time to argue as the stones begin shooting through the air towards them just a fraction of a second later. Again, Richie holds his bag in front of him as a pathetic little shield, but he doesn’t feel anything hit it.

When he chances a peak out from behind the fabric, he sees a wall of what was previously the unpaved path of the alleyway, standing tall in front of him and Bill.

Richie’s jaw drops.

He follows Bill’s gaze until he sees Ben, crouching behind them with his hand on the ground. It’s clear that he’s manipulating the earth, and Richie cannot help the wide smile that forms on his face. 

“Atta boy! Earth tribe forever, man!”

Bill sighs in relief, his shoulders slumping for a moment before his eyes dart around them. 

“Okay, so how are we getting out of here then? I can manipulate objects too but I don’t think there’s anything here that’ll help us…”

As Bill is pondering, there’s an unsettling noise before a hole gives way in Ben’s dirt wall. Soon enough, Vic is visible once again, standing on the other side with his hand outstretched. There’s something foul-smelling dripping from his hand, and Richie supposes he has some kind of venom or acid as his Ability. Fucking awesome. 

“You nerds Manifested? Well that’s just gold! When were you gonna tell us?” he pipes up, his voice just as venomous as his hands.

“Alright, Billy boy, I think it’s time you find something to manipulate! Quickly please!”

“Oh, sticks and stones, right? Too boring? Maybe I should try something a little more fun.” Bowers is back in the front, walking through the hole that Vic made. He’s always been menacing, but there’s a craze in his eyes that Richie is absolutely _not_ a fan of.

The maniac reaches into his pocket, pulling out… christ, actual bullets? Fucking _bullets_?

“ANY IDEAS, BILL?” Richie yells, panic evident in his shaky voice.

Ben appears too weakened from his earlier heroics, because he doesn’t seem able to recreate the dirt wall. Bill stands eerily still, and Richie has an idea of what he’s trying, but he’s still in fight-or-flight mode, trying to come up with a way to get the fuck out of here.

“Hey, maybe we should stop.”

The voice belongs to Hockstetter, but those are not his words.

_Bill, oh thank God._

Bowers pauses, turning around to face his right hand man.

“You shittin’ me man? The fuck?”

Hockstetter’s eyes are glazed over, but Bowers doesn’t seem to notice. Richie looks around while Bill is stalling- God bless mind powers- and tries to find an escape route, but he’s never been the smart one of the group. The two smart ones are a little preoccupied making sure his dumb ass doesn’t die.

He figures Ben is probably their best bet, but he’s still on the ground, breathing heavily. Richie rushes over to help, crouching down beside him.

“Haystack, you okay? Did you get hit or somethin’?” 

Ben groans in response, but he manages to stand up. Richie offers his hand to steady him, which Ben takes graciously.

“Thanks. ‘M fine, just took a lot out of me doing that.”

“I gotcha, dude, but we need to get out of here fast. I don’t know how long Bill can hold ‘em off.”

“Bill…?”

Both boys look over towards Bill, whose eyes are locked on the group of bullies in front of them. He looks as if he’s concentrating on a hard test question, but they know what he’s really doing. He calls it Manipulation. Richie guesses it’s because he’s not cool enough to just accept that it’s mind control.

Hockstetter continues to speak Bill’s words, and Bowers continues to argue with him. Belch stands by doing nothing, but Vic is looking directly at Bill and Richie does _not_ like the quizzical expression on his face. 

The realization hits Richie then, that somehow in Vic’s vacant, idiotic brain, he figured it out. Vic taps Bowers’ shoulder just as Richie whispers, “Oh shit.” 

“Mind control? You think you can fucking make fools of us like that?” Bowers shouts.

“Abort abort abort,” Richie whispers.

Bowers’ expression morphs from mocking to something dark and sinister, something filled with rage.

“I’ll fucking show you guys, then. See how well your little tricks work when you’re full of holes!”

Bowers tosses the bullets into the air, and they’re suddenly whirling towards them while his goons whoop and cheer behind him.

“Fuck-” Bill mutters, and he runs behind Richie to put some distance between himself and the gang.

Ben puts his hands to the ground, but he must be too drained for anything to happen, because the ground barely moves beneath his fingers.

Richie’s ready to accept his fate, holding his arms up in a pathetic last-ditch effort to save himself. Maybe Bowers will only hit him and leave his friends alone.

After a few nerve-wracking seconds though, Richie feels no impact.

Nothing happens.

Ben must have gotten his power back!

When Richie chances a look ahead of him though, there’s no wall of dirt in front of them. There is, however, an odd-looking sheer wall of… something. It extends around him and his friends like some sort of shield, some sort of forcefield.

It’s a faint indigo in color, and the bullets that had been previously hurtling towards them are stuck on the other side.

Richie’s first thought is _fuck, the police_ , but that thought is quickly followed by something that causes even more panic to ignite within him. _Fuck, the Ability Task Force!_ They probably noticed the commotion and came to take away whoever is responsible. 

His second thought is, _why are the others looking at him like that?_

And his third thought is a realization of what’s really going on.

Richie’s hands, previously held up as a defense, are shimmering the same faint color as the shield in front of them.

“That literally could not have happened at a better time,” he whispers to himself, pressing a kiss to his own hand in appreciation. 

He doesn’t dare look away from the shield that, apparently, he created. All Abilities work differently, and he has _no fucking clue_ how his works. The last thing he needs is to make the wrong move and have the only thing separating him from an army of bullets and Henry Bowers’ sadism to disappear. 

Even from ten feet away, Richie can see the vein in Bowers’ forehead popping out in sheer rage, and he does _not_ want to be on the other side of that.

Richie is about to ask Ben how he’s feeling so they could have some more reliable backup when he hears a voice, one that doesn’t belong to any of them, nor any of the four bullies. 

“Hey! You kids!”

Bowers turns his attention from his prey to see a group of people in uniform standing there. 

Richie chillingly realizes that these are not the police, though he really wishes they were.

Their uniforms are a dark grey, almost resembling S.W.A.T. team uniforms in design. They’re armed with a number of weapons in their numerous pockets and belts, and their uniforms are adorned with the letters A.T.F.

These are the people that took Stan. The Ability Task Force.

Or, as Richie prefers to call them, a bunch of assholes.

“Go- go, let’s go!” Someone from the gang yells, and Bowers isn’t their problem anymore.

“What should we do?” Richie turns to Bill, hoping he has an answer.

“I-I don’t know, I can’t manipulate them all at once!”

The Bowers Gang takes off, and they’re followed by a group of officers. Of course, there’s still a handful left to take Richie and his friends.

Richie decides to try and do what he does best- talk.

“Hey, guys! Thank God you showed up, those guys were really scaring us with their powers. We were just getting some snacks, but,” he pauses to laugh, “I’m not really in the mood for food right now so we’ll just, be on our way!”

He swiftly returns his hands to his sides, and the shield-like thing _flies_ towards the officers, sending them careening backwards.

Richie’s face falls.

“Oh shit.”

There’s a lot of yelling coming from where the officers had just been standing, and Richie knows there’s gonna be backup arriving soon. 

“Bill? Any ideas?” He asks, panicked. 

“W-w-we need them away from the entrance, that’s our only escape route.” Bill answers, looking at Ben; Richie follows that gaze to their friend, hoping to hell that he can help get them out of this mess. “Can you create a distraction, a b-barrier or something?”

Ben’s focus switches from the officers to his own hands. He steps forward, but stumbles over his own feet.

So, in other words, it’s a slim chance that he’ll be able to help.

Richie’s hand is on him quickly, and he’s all too aware that the officers are getting up.

“Richie, you better think of something quick.” Bill warns, and not a second later he’s walking towards the chaos.

“What?!”

The nearest officer stops, eyes glazed over.

“He’s buying us time- okay, okay Haystack we need to go!” Richie shouts, wrapping his arm around Ben’s waist to try and support him.

Together, they run to the opening of the alleyway, and Richie wills his hands to do that thing again. If he could put a shield up between them, maybe they could get away. 

His mind is racing, thoughts moving a mile a minute as he tries to come up with the next step- but _fuck_ , that’s always been Bill’s area of expertise. Richie stays close to the wall as he and Ben move. Once they’re at the entrance to the alleyway, so close to freedom, so close to escaping, a sickening cry snaps Richie from any plans he may have been on the verge of creating. 

He snaps his head around, his heart _stopping_ when he’s met with the sight of Bill, unconscious on the ground. Or at least, _hopefully_ just unconscious. 

The officers in front of him are holding stick-like objects that almost look like fucking tasers, but ones you’d see in a circus to train animals, or like something used by officials in a dystopian society.

A string of curses leaves his mouth, and he turns to run but the weight at his side that was previously Ben drops to the ground. He grunts as he falls, and the sickening thud he makes sends Richie into panic mode.

So he runs.

His hands are flickering in that same indigo hue, so he waves them behind his body as he moves.

He doesn’t know his power, so now’s the time to try it out, right?

And, just as he had hoped, something flies out behind him, but it doesn’t serve much use as it dissipates quickly in the air, and he doesn’t have time to keep trying because _fuck_ he needs to _run_ , he needs to get out of here he needs to get to _Eddie-_

There’s a horrible pain in Richie’s back, and suddenly everything goes dark.

* * *

The good thing about being dragged away from home is that Richie hated his home. Derry, Maine sucked ass. Inside the Facility, as boring and sterile as it is, at least he doesn’t have to worry about getting harassed every day. 

Well, maybe not entirely. The guards aren’t the nicest, and sometimes they’re a little rough. But at least nobody calls him homophobic slurs, no one slices into Ben’s stomach, no one makes fun of Bill’s stutter.

The other good thing about being dragged away from home is that Richie and the others ended up in the same place as Stan. They had all been dragged to a government-mandated facility in New York. Go figure! 

Their other friends, Mike and Beverly, ended up there as well. Apparently after Richie, Bill, and Ben disappeared, the two were caught when they tried to look for them. They Manifested during a fight with the ATF and landed themselves a one-way ticket to dystopian societal hell. At least they get to see each other on the daily, though. 

They’re not allowed to use their powers outside of designated training hours, but they’re allowed to discuss them. 

Turns out, they all Manifested some pretty killer Abilities- Mike can grow plants, and Bev had somehow started a fire while fighting ATF officers. Needless to say, the government didn’t want that kind of power on the streets unsupervised. Richie can’t entirely blame them, even if he _is_ pissed about being dragged away from his life.

Richie makes a lot of jokes about being in jail. But the reality is, their parents were given shelter in the city nearby, and could visit any time (not that they do, besides Richie’s and Ben’s), they’re fed during the day, and the rooms aren’t terrible. The best perk of all, though, is that they’re all together.

Well… minus Eddie.

Richie thinks a lot about how that must have gone… how Eddie must have felt when they didn’t show up for him. 

In the next two years, there’s a ton of reform that takes place regarding mandatory Ability registration and training. It’s pretty much universally agreed that stealing kids from off the street and forcing them into training is bad. But, as the government does, they just make it look prettier instead of changing their actions. 

Richie’s not complaining, though. 

It’s kind of what he’d imagine college to be like. They have rooms that they’re allowed to decorate, they have internet access and common rooms, they can roam around as they please. With permission, they can go on city excursions too.

When new people take charge of the facility, everyone is a bit cautious, and for good reason. It’s not as if the original “caretakers” were friendly balls of fun, after all. But, time reveals them to be pretty caring people. They serve to be more like teachers and mentors rather than heartless guards

Richie jokes that it’s like Sky High.

The only aspect that remains the same is mandatory Ability training- but Richie doesn’t really mind it.

At first, it’s scary to be forced to use your Abilities at scheduled times. But, with the reform, becomes more like a gym class than an exhaustive training regimen.. 

Beverly is given a specialized fire-proof suit and mask to train in an equally fire-proofed ring. Ben trains outside with Mike and Stan, while Bill and Richie train in special rooms designed for them. It’s hard to stay pissed at these people when they’re providing them with so many cool things, so much assistance, so much _more_ than they ever got in Derry.

Richie tries more than once to contact Eddie. He searches him up on every social media website, and maybe he shouldn’t be surprised that he doesn’t show up on a single one- of course, it’s not like Eddie’s mom would cut him any slack.

So, Richie starts writing letters, but Eddie never writes back.

They get permission for Eddie to visit them, but he never shows up.

Richie doesn’t blame him for not wanting to talk to them after they more or less left him in Derry with his terrible garbage human of a mom. Or maybe, after two years, after three years, after four years, Eddie doesn’t remember them anymore. 

Richie writes his last letter to Eddie when he’s 18.

> _Eds,_
> 
> _I guess we’re probably just annoying you with the letters. So after this, I won’t bother you anymore. If you ever wanna visit, you know you can always write back. The Losers club hasn’t been the same without our resident clean freak._
> 
> _I miss you, Eds._
> 
> _I hope you were able to get out of there, maybe go to college or something. Which means this letter is kinda pointless, huh?_
> 
> _Maybe it’s all pointless. Hell if I know._
> 
> _Anyways. I’m gettin sappy now. I hope you’re well, man._
> 
> _Richie._

* * *

In the 10 years since he’d been taken away, Richie learns a lot.

First, is that when Abilities are in the hands of people like Bowers and his gang, supervillains can become very real, and very threatening.

Second, is that his Ability is cool as hell.

Third, is that being a superhero is fucking awesome.

Since heroes started becoming a thing, organizations started popping up all over the place for individuals with Abilities to work in- like detective agencies, in a sense. It created a lot of jobs and stimulated the economy, plus, people got to actually _use_ their Abilities. Like, as a _job_. What could be cooler?

The advances in technology have been _amazing_. With all the Abilities related to technology and precision, it’s not surprising. All those ideas that used to be just comic-book fantasy are slowly becoming reality- unbreakable (for the most part) shields, advanced weaponry, uniforms that can spread across the body with the press of a button. 

Yes yes, it’s all very glamorous.

Richie, Bill, Stan, Mike, Ben, and Beverly, managed to land the same agency in New York. It’s one of the biggest around, since the crime rates in the city are… well, they’re not great, and they never have been. It makes for a lot of work, which makes for a lot of pay. 

Plus, it means they get to work on making a place safer. Having grown up in a town where he got beat up more than a handful of times, Richie feels it’s kind of nice to work in a field that prevents shit like that. 

Additionally his friends are five people with hearts of gold, so he knows that factors into their enjoyment of the job as well.

Thieves, harassers, some human traffickers even- all of those were things heroes could be called on to handle. Most often, though, were those with flashy Abilities who just wanted to cause chaos. Just as superheroes had become a profession, supervillains had come into existence too.

It usually isn’t too much to handle, but there were times where people got hurt, where buildings were destroyed, where the city _really_ got fucked- needless to say, it’s not all fun and games. 

Also, paperwork is a thing. Fucking _paperwork_.

After a battle takes place, all heroes have to fill out a report on the situation in order to keep track of consistency, crime, villain Abilities, and a bunch of other stuff that isn’t Richie’s job to organize or analyze. Mostly they have to just write down what happened and how, but it was still unnecessary. And it’s boring as hell. If Richie had wanted to be a writer, he would’ve become one, dammit.

In comics and shit, Spiderman never does paperwork! But, seeing as Richie is not Spiderman, and as he was recently deployed in a pretty impressive fight... he alas, has paperwork.

On that note, so do Ben, and Bill, and Mike.

The best thing about Richie working with his best friends is that they make an _amazing_ team. They’re known for their ability to get things done fast and get them done well, which makes them popular in the public eye.

Richie calls them the Avengers. 

Stan and Bill _hate_ that Richie calls them the Avengers.

The only group name that had ever caught on for them was ‘The Losers’, but they couldn’t exactly go by that name as superheroes now could they? This serves to be a common argument amongst the group.

Not to mention, the _Avengers_ never have to do paperwork.

(This is a common argument Richie uses against doing paperwork).

It’s the day after a particularly nasty fight with a guy who could melt things. Richie- better known by his hero name, Forcefield, had been sent out to protect bystanders along with Ben, known as Earthquake. 

Mike- AKA, Flytrap- worked on restraining the villain with powerful vines of his creation, while Bill- AKA, Mindgame- was sent in to help subdue him via mind manipulation.

Bill and the others are stupidly responsible, so they get their work done quickly and are able to leave for the day at a normal hour. Richie, after screwing around all day and procrastinating, now has to work as quickly as possible so he can get home before the custodians close the building.

They don’t have individual offices, but there’s a communal area with plenty of computers to work at. This floor is very much like an office though, so naturally, Richie hates it. Other floors have training rooms, refreshments, costume-design studios, a lot of cool shit. But here, it’s computers and files. 

Richie’s honestly proud of himself for not falling asleep during his time there.

He’s staring at the screen, re-reading the words he’d already written. He has to get at least a page down for this, but what else is there to say? He arrived on the scene, put a field around the destruction, kept the guy contained, and let the others do their thing. Ben cleared the area, Mike restrained, Bill de-escalated. There, one easy paragraph. Why does there need to be more? 

Richie grumbles to himself, slumping in his chair until he suddenly hears a noise nearby. He lifts his head, listening for more.

At first, he assumes it’s this floor’s custodian… but he just went by a few minutes ago, in the opposite direction. 

And then there’s a clear crash, and it’s fucking _loud._

“What the fuck-” Richie mutters aloud, all but jumping to his feet.

His file is discarded as he cautiously makes his way towards the noise, and his uniform is on in a fraction of a second as he presses the small button on his bracelet. 

He cautiously inches towards the direction of the sound, a dim shimmer appearing around each of his hands as he prepares himself for whatever may be down that hall.

He hears what sounds like rummaging coming from a room down the hall- which is weird, because the only thing that room is used for is to store old case files and what not. There’s no financial or company information, no information on the agency heroes, and no current cases… if the intruder is a competing agency or a villain, they’d be in for an unpleasant surprise. 

“Who’s there?”

After Richie calls out, everything goes silent.

He inches closer to where he heard the noise, and- oh, christ.

There’s a fucking _hole_ in the wall. The city is on full display in front of him. The cool night air brushes past, ruffling his hair and chilling the halls. 

So. He’s dealing with someone who has Abilities. 

Richie puts a field around himself, a familiar shimmer appearing in front of him. He’s about to take another step when all hell breaks loose.

There’s a burst of- of _something_ , and he’s sent careening backwards. Thank god he’d put up a field when he did, because if that energy could break a wall, he’s sure it would’ve destroyed him.

He squints up then, and standing in front of him, is his opponent.

He’s clad in black, a hood covering his face, and Richie doesn’t recognize him as any villain they’d been trying to hunt down… so, a new villain, maybe?

“There’s nothing up here but closed cases. You’re wasting your time!” Richie yells.

The other man says nothing, Instead, he shoots off another blast of energy that shoves Richie even further away even more before bursting into the next room.

It definitely disorients Richie, but he’s been through worse. He shakes it off, back on his feet in an instant and running towards the room the intruder had run off to. 

There’s papers and files scattered everywhere. God, Richie’s gonna get a fucking earful tomorrow from the poor guys who had to clean this shit up.

As he comes upon the room, he finds the figure frantically searching through cabinets that Richie didn’t even know could open. He’s almost confused enough to stop and ask the guy what the hell he wants, but he knows he’s gotta get him out of there- act first, questions later.

Richie punches his fists together, creating two smaller fields on each hand that he proceeds to hurl at the figure, interrupting his scavenging and sending him flying into the wall.

“The police and other heroes are on their way, so you’re better off giving up now!” He warns, not that it sways the man at all. 

The mysterious man rubs his head with one hand, and sends another powerful blast at Richie with the other, which Richie is quick to stop with another forcefield. 

For god knows how long, it’s a pattern of back-and-forth between the two, until a particularly powerful blast sends Richie careening _hard_ into one of the filing cabinets before he can manage to get a field up. 

He crumples to the floor, groaning, and it takes a little longer for him to recover from that blast.

Just as Richie finally pulls himself together to get the hell up, to officially put a stop to this guy, he stills. The man has obviously found what he’s been looking for. At least, if the bunch of file folders bunched in his arms is anything to go by. 

Richie darts after the retreating figure as he bolts from the room, and is met with a view of the man standing at the very edge of the hole in the wall. The city lights cast an almost magical glow against him, and for a moment, Richie just stares.

“Get to a doctor. That fall might have fractured a rib.”

And then, the man promptly jumps out the window. Richie surges forward to try and catch him, or follow him, he’s nowhere to be found among the vast expanse of the city below.

He can only stare out the window for a few moments.

What the fuck just happened?

When he turns back towards the main room, he sees the custodian standing there, awestruck.

“Someone- someone broke that.” Richie points to the gaping hole in the wall, and a light promptly falls from its fixture. 

* * *

Eddie looks down at the files in his hands as he runs along the top of a city building. They’re not everything he’s been earching for, but they’re a start.

Once he knows he’s far enough away, he pauses behind a rooftop doorway, and chances a glance up at the popular hero agency building he had just broken into and out of. Among the crumbling pieces of the building around the hole that he’d torn in its side, he sees the hero he’d just fought. 

Forcefield.

Eddie hadn't expected to run into anyone. He’d studied the agency for a while, and all but the custodial staff were supposed to be out of the building by early evening. Unless… did the heroes live in the building? Eddie hadn't accounted for that.

No matter, he’d been able to escape with only a minimal pain in his body, and a handful of essential papers.

He doesn’t know exactly what’s going on, how deep or how far up it goes, but he knows there’s people going missing and nobody is looking for them.

And maybe the agency doesn’t care. Maybe the heroes don’t care either, and certainly the villains don’t. But Eddie does, and doesn’t care much for either label.

People call him Photon now, and he just wants to do what’s right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback on the first chapter made me so happy I can't even explain it!! I'm really attached to this au and I hope people continue to enjoy it!  
> Feel free to hop into my inbox on tumblr [here](thefloralpeach.tumblr.com) :D  
> And any comments or feedback is always appreciated!!  
> \--  
> Listen to the Bird Set Free playlist [here](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/7hhALiOI59e1RHjs0muq6j)


	3. Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eddie meets someone he hasn't seen in ten years... Actually, he meets six someones.

Eddie wakes up with a soreness in his back, but it’s nothing he can’t handle. He’s been sore before, and he’ll be sore again.

The sunlight shimmers in through the window, the blinds casting stripes of shadows across the room. Honestly, it’s a surprise that the brightness alone didn’t rouse Eddie from his sleep.

Soft music from the night before is still playing beside him on the radio, a song skipping slightly on the CD that he never threw away.

> _Because I'm still in love with you_
> 
> _I want to see you dance again_
> 
> _Because I'm still in love with you_
> 
> _On this harvest moon_

Eddie is barely awake as he grabs for the Advil on his nightstand, taking a handful and gulping them down. He’d realized a few years back that his power takes a _lot_ out of him. As a side effect, he has to consume more in order to keep it going. More food, more supplements, more painkillers.

It’s a stupidly expensive Ability.

Eddie’s lucky to have a relatively okay-paying job, at least. Not too far away from his shoddy apartment is a small mechanics shop that took Eddie in a few years back, when he was new and clueless and needed _something_ to do. He’d been able to catch onto lessons quickly, and the owner, a guy named Don, took a liking to Eddie’s Ability.

Don’s Ability is to see how things work, and nestled within that power is an inkling to see potential. 

Eddie found out soon after that that his power includes not just energy, but _heat_. It comes in handy in fixing a lot of things, and he saves the company a lot of money by negating their need to buy welding equipment.

It’s kind of nice to be wanted. It’s even nicer that he gets some good money out of it. His Advil collection won’t pay for itself.

It’s also not like Eddie’s above using his Ability for stealing if he needs to; obviously not, if the mound of papers on his makeshift desk is anything to go by. 

After a yawn and a nice stretch of his arms, he finally takes the leap and gets up out of his bed, which is really just two mattresses stacked on top of each other. He fixes it up nice with soft blankets and pillows though, so he can at least have the illusion of a comfortable room.

His place is a shitty little one bedroom, and he doesn’t have much furniture- which is fine, it’s not like Eddie needs a lot of furniture. His life doesn’t really allow for hosting a lot of people, or anyone really. He’d rather spend his money on more important things, like a year's supply of coffee and espresso.

Another side effect of his Ability- he needs at least twice the amount of caffeine as a normal person to feel energized in the morning. Sometimes more, depending on how rough his night was before.

It’s almost a normal person’s morning routine once Eddie gets up. Make coffee (or a coffee-sized cup of espresso…), grab some paperwork to look over, and sit at the kitchen table.

Except, while most people would be looking at something simple, or at least something _innocent_ maybe for work, Eddie has to examine missing children’s reports.

He’d gotten wind of something weird going on about a month back from someone in the neighborhood. When he went to investigate, asking around, apparently there had been a _lot_ of cases of missing kids that had just… dropped. Cold cases, but with little to no evidence of an investigation.

Eddie isn’t a hero.

He’s never tried to be one.

But god dammit if he doesn’t want to save people. People like him, people that the heroes never look for.

His heart drops as he flips through the numerous reports, realizing there’s way more than he’d previously expected. A lot of kids from poorer neighborhoods, of course. Kids people wouldn’t miss. Whoever took them definitely took that into consideration.

Even more concerning than the sheer number of cases, is how short each one’s investigative period is. No more than a few days for any child, and none of them end in finding the kid.

And, _most concerning_ , are the papers he finds attached to each kid’s file. 

Contracts.

They’re formatted like non-disclosure forms, with the same type of requests in the contract. But this isn’t silence over some petty celebrity drama, these contracts appear signed by the fucking _families_ of the missing children. These contracts are silencing the families, covering up the disappearances.

The exchange is a small sum of money, and the threat of “legal or defensive action if necessary” if families are found breaking compliance.

And _that_ explains why they aren’t common knowledge, why there are at least ten missing children from the same area and no one is saying anything about it. That explains why Eddie had only learned about it through hushed conversations.

Eddie feels sick to his stomach as he reads through the documents.

He only got a handful… How many are there in total, then? How many missing kids? How deep does this run, and what exactly _is it_?

He’s not entirely surprised by the information, but he’s absolutely disgusted. The coffee in his mouth suddenly tastes rotten, and he’s convinced for a moment that he actually might get sick on his kitchen floor.

The physical feeling passes, but the emotional feeling doesn’t.

He takes a moment to compose himself before he can finish looking through everything. It’s mostly the missing childrens’ reports and the subsequent contracts, but there’s a file towards the bottom of his stack that sticks out as something different.

It’s another contract of some sort, but there are more redacted bits than in the nondisclosure ones. In fact, _most_ of it is redacted, and Eddie can’t make out the words even if he holds the paper up to the light. 

Without those bits of information, it’s almost impossible to tell what the form is supposed to be. What he could gather is that the agreement is between this agency and another, and there’s a part about the safety of the other agency’s heroes in exchange for… something. He can’t make it out.

He doesn’t have to read every word to know it’s not good, but it leaves him with a lot of questions.

What was the other agency’s part of the exchange, and why did their heroes need protection? Or, more so, what did they need protection _from_?

Eddie had figured before that he’d have to go back for more information, but now he knows for sure that’s the case. Maybe there’s something bigger going on here than he could have expected. 

But that would have to wait for later.

For now, he finishes his coffee, showers, and heads off to work.

* * *

“I’m telling you guys, he’s not a villain we’ve seen before!”

Richie sits in a meeting room, surrounded by his team and several others from the agency, trying to figure out what exactly happened last night.

“You’re _sure_ it wasn’t Heatblast-”

“ _Yes_ , I’m sure,” Richie insists, cutting off a guy from Damage Control. “The blasts, they weren’t flames or anything. I mean, his- his hands glowed, but it wasn’t an explosion. It- it was like, just _energy_ man, I swear.”

They’d been going at this for about half an hour- Richie explaining what happened, and everyone else trying to figure out the details. Plus, a hint of damage control not believing him.

“So, he broke in, and immediately went to that room?” Mike asks. He’d been trying the hardest out of the whole team to piece it all together.

Richie huffs, slumping in his chair. 

“Well, no. I caught him in the hallway first. And I think he went into some other rooms before that one- man, I don’t know, don’t we have cameras over there or something?” He whines.

Fighting is easy, straightforward, and Richie doesn’t mind that part of his job. But, figuring shit out like this, to him, is just frustrating. Stan and Mike had always loved puzzles- Richie always went for the action comics instead. At twenty-three years old, it’s still the same.

Eddie always went for the action comics, too…

Richie zones out for a moment as the discussion continues, but the door opens and draws his attention soon after as Bill walks in with a few higher-ups.

“Sorry we’re late,” he announces. “W-w-we reviewed the footage from the operating cameras, and HQ recovered backups of the stolen files. So we may have better luck with a motive here.”

Richie’s face lights up, because more details means less work.

“Well kick me in the crotch and spit on my neck, Billy Boy-”

“No,” Bill interrupts, but Richie continues anyway.

“That’s fan-fucking-tastic! So what did he take?”

Richie doesn’t miss the flicker of… _something_ , across Bill’s face before he answers. 

“HQ took them for further investigation. Th-th-they were just closed case files.”

They’re definitely not just closed case files.

HQ isn’t necessarily known for being 100% truthful 100% of the time, sort of like the FBI. But, it’s a little unsettling that some random villain now has information that not even they, as _heroes_ , are allowed to access.

“Well, that still doesn’t solve the mystery of who this guy is.” Mike breaks the tension smoothly, placing the unspoken conversation shared between Bill and Richie to the side.

Bill takes his seat at the table, finally, and passes what looks like a handful of photographs around.

“These are the clearest shots we could get from the remaining footage. R-R-R-Richie’s right, this isn’t a villain we have on file-”

“HA! See, I told you, I told _you_ , I told _you_ -” Richie points to each person who tried to convince him it was probably a villain he’d forgotten about. 

Beverly rolls her eyes, and Stan looks like he’s holding back a grin. He’d been on Richie’s side with this one.

“ _Anyways,_ ” Bill continues, “I think it’s because he’s not really a villain.”

“A rogue hero then?” Mike chimes in, the gears in his mind still turning to try and find an answer. Bill shrugs in response.

“M-maybe? W-w-what we do know is that when those two other nearby agencies were broken into this past month, the same kind of files were stolen.”

“You think it’s the same guy?” Mike questions, and Richie’s completely lost.

“Woah woah, what guy? Anyone wanna catch me up here?” Richie interrupts.

“You were present at both of those meetings, Rich,” Bev chastises. “Remember? They said a villain smashed through the wall, and _you_ said ‘at least something’s getting smashed tonight.’” 

Richie laughs at his own joke from like, two weeks ago.

“Oh, yeah. That was a good one.” 

He doesn’t need to look to know that every member of his team is glaring at him collectively.

There’s a pause of silence in the room, Bill making direct eye contact with Richie for the duration of it.

“You done? You good?” He asks with an unamused expression.

Richie makes a zipped-mouth motion, waving his hands to let their leader continue.

“A-a-anyways, apparently this guy is called ‘Photon’. No one knows what his Ability is, but it’s powerful. We know he can create powerful blasts, but that’s about it.”

“How’d you beat him, Rich?” Ben, who had been quiet most of the meeting, chimes in with his own question.

Richie shrugs. 

“I mean, he got me pretty good. My fields held up against him for the most part, but the fucking filing cabinet got me. So technically I should sue you guys-”

“Yeah, we’re terrified,” Stan interrupts for the greater good. “But how’d you get him out?”

Again, Richie shrugs.

“I- I didn’t. He got the files, and…” _And he told me to get to a doctor._ “And the crazy fucker jumped out the window. You sure no one found a body?”

The others exchange more ideas, more theories, all of them trying to put the pieces together after that.

Richie isn’t sure why he didn’t mention the guy’s comment, but he decides to keep it to himself.

* * *

Eddie spends the next few days alternating between working and studying the files. He meets up with a few of the people who’d given him information before, but extra careful this time- he knows what’s at risk if anyone finds out about their conversations. 

He doesn’t get very far in figuring anything out besides what he’d pieced together from his initial reading of it all. So, basically, he knows there’s something really fucked up going on. What else is new?

It’s Wednesday now, and he’s been mentally sifting through the details of everything during work.

It’s a relatively easy day, too. He’s only in charge of general maintenance on a few vehicles, and he has to handle customer service for the second half of the shift. 

The hours go by quickly when he’s fixing things. It’s come easy to him ever since Don had taught him how everything works. Everything has a place, has its own job, and all Eddie has to do is check to see if anything is out of the ordinary. That part’s simple. It’s customer service that’s a pain in the ass. People don’t come with a manual.

Eddie does some necessary paperwork on the cars he’d inspected while he stands at the service counter, not looking up until he hears the door open.

He puts on his best customer service smile to greet the guy who just walked through the door.

Something about him seems familiar, but any inkling Eddie may have had to search his brain is crushed when he’s met with a vaguely unsettling blank expression. 

“Can I help you?” Eddie asks, but there’s no answer besides that same stare, which he’s not sure anymore is so blank.

The guy meets Eddie’s eyes as if he’s searching for something in them, and for a moment Eddie thinks he’s been caught, that somebody knows about what he does in his spare time.

He feels studied... like this guy knows something about Eddie that he himself does not. He shifts uncomfortably, keeping polite eye contact and pushing down the rising anxiety that someone might know about him.

Eddie notices the other man’s eyes flick down from behind his thick glasses, presumably checking Eddie’s nametag. He shrinks under the intensity of his gaze.

“Should I… get a manager or something-” Eddie gestures to the door behind him, turning around halfway before the mysterious customer finally says something.

“Eddie?”

Eddie narrows his eyes.

“Um, yes that’s me, did you need help with anything today sir-”

He cuts his words off with a soft grunt as he’s pulled into a tight embrace, his hips being pushed uncomfortably into the counter. What the hell…?

But then it hits him, like a slap to the face.

Like a fall that knocks the wind out of you, like a laugh that tears through your body so suddenly that it hurts, like a memory of someone you thought left your life ten years ago.

As he’s pushed into the other man’s chest, a scent that Eddie hadn't encountered since his early teen years fills his nose- musky, almost woodsy, though the tinge of smoke that used to be there is gone. And, memory upon memory upon memory floods back into his head. 

Thick glasses that were always broken, ugly button-ups, and shitty jokes and mix CDs.

Eddie pulls back, locking eyes with the boy who crushed his heart.

“Holy- holy shit, _Richie_?”

The smile he’s met with is so bright it’s _blinding_ , and on some level Eddie really wants to return it.

But he remembers how it felt when nobody showed up, and he remembered how it felt to be fucking _alone_ for years. 

And his face must show his conflicting emotions, because Richie’s smile falters. 

“Yeah, holy shit is right!” He says cheerfully. But Eddie doesn’t feel very cheerful.

“What are you doing here?” Eddie asks in a low voice, shrugging Richie’s arms off of his own. It’s a little too late for a hug to be able to fix things.

Richie’s fallen expression is almost enough for Eddie to take it all back, but he doesn’t.

“Woah, woah, Eds- what’s with the-”

“ _No,”_ Eddie interrupts. “No, you don’t get to call me that. You don’t-” He glances around the shop, not really wanting to make a scene if there were others around. Luckily, it seems they’re alone. “You _abandoned_ me, Richie. You and everyone else. You don’t- you don’t get to just-” 

He has to cut himself off as he feels his heart racing, his palms heating up. No matter how angry he is, he _cannot_ let that happen right now. Instead, he clenches his jaw and averts his gaze while Richie sputters in front of him.

“Abandoned you?”

His voice… it’s soft, not accusatory in the slightest. And it does better than any grounding technique could to stop the trembling of Eddie’s hands.

Eddie chances a glance up, and Richie’s eyes look just as soft as his voice sounds. And there’s a hint of something else there- hurt? Concern?

“Yeah, Richie. Abandoned me. For ten fucking years, thank you-”

“Eddie, we didn’t- you didn’t- you didn’t read the letters?”

He tries to read Richie’s expression, to tell if this is some ill-timed joke because that’s _just_ the kind of shit he would pull, but… for all Eddie can tell, he’s being honest.

“Letters?” Eddie chances, and Richie’s expression shifts again. Eddie’s on the defensive in seconds “I swear to god, Richie-”

“No, Eds I _swear_ I’m being honest here, I- _we-_ we wrote you all the time, all the fucking time for _years_ , you have to believe me here.”

Eddie purses his lips, and he’s ready to fight again in seconds.

“Then why didn’t I get a single one, huh? If you sent me so many, why didn’t fucking get them?” Eddie raises his voice. “Did they all get lost in the mail?” Richie’s expression softens, as if he connected dots that Eddie hadn't. “Or did someone steal them? Someone just hid them from me, is _that_ what I’m…” Eddie’s voice softens, “what I’m supposed to... believe…”

He swallows hard, staring down at the counter as it clicks.

Richie _did_ send him letters. All of his friends probably did. And he knows just the woman who was probably filled with joy every time she got to trash one.

Eddie knows his hands have begun to glow, though they’re hidden under the counter. A million emotions are swirling in his head, and this might just be the hardest he’s ever fought to control his Ability

“Of course.” He punctuates it with a sad chuckle. “Of course! Of course she fucking hid them! Why would she have let me have friends!” 

Eddie wants to wipe at the tears he feels prickling at his eyes, but it’s too risky.

“Eds…” Richie reaches out to him, but Eddie turns his head, stepping back. 

“Why didn’t you show up that day, Richie.” 

It’s a question, but it sounds more like a statement despite Eddie’s voice being barely more than a whisper.

Richie looks at him with furrowed brows, and Eddie knows he’s debating whether it’s a serious question or not. After a moment, he takes a deep breath and answers.

“You remember the Ability Registration Mandate?” Eddie nods, prompting him to continue. “You remember how it was when it first passed? When they plucked kids off the streets and shipped ‘em off?” 

Eddie nods again, getting the idea.

“Oh… you guys…” 

There’s a silence between them before Richie picks up the story.

“They got Stan before any of us, then Bill, Ben and me in a fight with the fucking Bowers’ gang the day we were supposed to get you.”

There’s another few beats of silence as Eddie takes in what Richie means.

They didn’t abandon him. They were _taken from_ him.

“So, _all_ of you were…?” Eddie asks, to which Richie nods.

He doesn’t ask the details of their Abilities. It’s generally considered rude, and he also doesn’t want to risk Richie asking about his own power.

But he feels like an absolute idiot for not connecting the dots. He _saw_ the reports on the news, he saw the mandates, but he never even considered that a possibility.

“A few years in, they reformed everything. I swear, I wrote you almost every day. We even invited you to visit. And I uh, I sent you a few more CDs too, but I guess…” Richie trails off, bringing a hand up to rub nervously at the nape of his neck. “‘M sorry, Eds.”

The image of a stupid old CD filled with disgustingly sappy songs settles in Eddie’s thoughts as he stands there. He decides he believes Richie, as crazy as everything sounds. That’s just the shitty world they live in, isn’t it? 

He wants to cry, he wants to scream, he wants to hit stuff, maybe all at the same time. He wants a tree in front of him, ready to take the brunt of his power.

Keeping his hands in his pockets helps- at least Richie wouldn’t notice if his glowy weirdness decides to make a guest appearance.

“I’m sorry too, Rich, I never thought- I mean, I heard about all that but I never thought… it never clicked to me, I just thought that you guys…”

“That we _left_ you?” Richie finishes. 

Eddie doesn’t dispute it, because he’s right. That’s exactly what Eddie thought.

“Eds, how could- we would _never_ \- fuck, can I just fucking hug you now?”

Eddie looks up, finally meeting Richie’s pleading eyes, and he _can’t_ say no. He’s on the other side of the counter in less than a second, all but throwing his arms around his best friend.

_His best friend_.

How long had it been since he’d had a friend?

Of course, Richie hugs back, and Eddie can’t stop the waterworks if he tries. From the sound of it, Richie’s in the same boat.

Eddie can’t even remember the last time he really hugged someone like this, both arms around them and squeezing tightly. Honestly, there’s a good chance that the last person to have embraced Eddie this way was Richie, ten years ago. The thought does nothing to steady his emotions.

He breaths in as deep as he can, inhaling the scene that brings him back to childhood, back before everything got complicated. 

Richie is still taller than him, maybe by a little more now. Eddie knows he’s not the tallest man in the world, but Richie shot up like a fucking beanstalk. At this moment, he’s not complaining. It’s nice to be in someone’s arms.

They stay like that until the door opens, and Don walks in for his shift.

Without question, he gives Eddie the rest of the day off.

* * *

The two walk to a nearby cafe to grab some much-needed caffeine. Some liquor would’ve been nice too, but such is life.

At first, he doesn’t really know what to do. What do you say to someone you both resented and missed for ten years?

Richie takes the leap to start a conversation.

“So, what are you doing nowadays, Spaghetti? Besides the glamorous life of mechanics, of course.”

Richie teases, but there’s no malice there. Just like Eddie remembers. He huffs a laugh, and ponders for a moment just how much he can spill.

“Well uh, I live nearby. I spend most of my time working, since I need the money…” He pauses for a moment to chew at his bottom lip. “You know, I still have that mix CD you made me.”

Richie looks at him incredulously, with a hint of a blush on his face.

“Oh my god- you’re shitting me, you kept that piece of crap?”

Suddenly feeling silly about it, Eddie runs a hand through his hair.

“I left home five years ago, that’s one of the things I took with me. It… I don’t know, it reminded me of you- of all you guys,” he says, correcting himself at the last minute.

Richie’s attention lingers on something else though.

“What do you mean that’s ‘one’ of the things you took? You’re telling me you didn’t pack up your whole room and five hundred comic books when you moved?” He raises an eyebrow, his gaze quizzical, but there’s a concern in his eyes. Eddie knows him too well.

“No, I ran away.” Eddie punctuates his response with a sharp chuckle before following it up with a lie. “That’s… really all there is to it.”

Richie doesn’t press.

“Damn. So you had to leave all your comic book children then? That’s tragic,” Richie says as he puts a hand to his heart, his expression exaggerated in a way that makes Eddie laugh.

“Shut up, I only took what was important to me. ”

Richie glances down for a moment before looking back up at Eddie.

“You thought that stupid little CD was important enough to take? And to keep?”

Eddie wants to shrink under his gaze, but he manages to fight off any visible bashfulness with a shrug, keeping his eyes downcast.

“I mean, yeah. You have good music taste, what can I say?”

Richie looks like he wants to say more, but he doesn’t. They fall into a silence that isn’t necessarily uncomfortable, but after a few moments of quiet coffee-sipping, Richie suddenly scrambles for his phone.

“The Losers! Shit, Eds, we gotta call them, and-” he begins excitedly, but pauses and looks at Eddie with a bit of uncertainty. “If that’s okay, I mean-”

“It’s fine,” Eddie reassures, an honest smile on his face and a welcome lightness in his chest. “I wanna see them.

Richie’s bright grin matches how Eddie feels, and he calls the five other members of the Losers club for an emergency meeting. They immediately drop all their plans.

Within half an hour, Eddie’s hugging the rest of his friends he had believed to be long-lost, relishing in the feeling of their arms around him once more. It’s almost surreal seeing them all again right in front of him. He had already accepted that they weren’t a part of his life anymore, but now here they are lovingly embracing like no time had passed at all.

Eddie’s feeling like he’s living some kind of fever dream.

They’ve all changed, and yet somehow, they all still look the same.

Ben's changed the most, having grown into a muscular, ridiculously fit guy. But his eyes still hold that same gentle, grounding softness that Eddie remembers- even softer still for Beverly, it seems. He's still unquestionably Ben.

Beverly’s hair, though it’s shoulder-length now, is still as fiery as her personality. Her smile remains warm and inviting. 

Mike shot up to be taller than the rest of them, even beating Richie by an inch or two. But, his embrace is still the sturdiest of them all.

Stanley kept the same calming presence that he’s always had. Eddie remembers him being the one to lift the others up, and after only a few minutes being around him Eddie knows it’s still true.

And Bill, the man they considered a leader as kids, still has that strong, almost persuasive quality to him. Eddie thinks he would still follow anything he suggested.

They share a group hug in the middle of everything. It’s a little obnoxious and bears a resemblance to just about every cliche friendship movie out there, but Eddie doesn’t care. 

When they’re finally done making a scene, they shove a few small tables together, grab some coffee

And just like that, the Losers Club is back.

“So what are you guys up to now?” Eddie asks, wiping the remaining tears from his eyes. Maybe he should be embarrassed, but the other Losers are doing the same thing, so he quickly gets over it. 

A few of them share an almost cautious look before Bill ultimately answers.

“We uh, we actually all found work in hero support.”

Eddie’s smile falters at the mention of heroes, and he now knows why they must have been hesitant. After all, Eddie hadn't really tried to hide his disdain for the industry. But, it’s the heroes and high-ups he has problems with, not support.

“Oh, really?” he responds. 

There’s a long, heavy silence, and Eddie feels the prior lightheartedness dissipate into tension. But he doesn’t want this shit right now.

“Guys, you don’t have to feel weird about what you do. I mean, you had easy access from growing up in the facilities right? How could I blame you? You gotta make a living somehow.” 

He hopes the others can read the honesty on his face, because he means it. He really, truly does.

Bev, unsurprisingly, is the one who takes the leap to continue the conversation.

“Well, I help costume design. Ben here helps with building reinforcements and architecture, and Mike’s publishing some research on Abilities, isn’t that right Mikey?” She playfully taps his shoulder, smiling.

Mike returns the expression just as brightly, humming in agreement.

“That’s- that’s right! It’s a very interesting phenomenon, there’s a lot to write about.”

The way he beams as he talks about his work makes Eddie feel warm.

“That’s awesome guys, I’m happy for you! I really am,” Eddie says earnestly before turning to Stan, Bill, and Richie. “So what about you guys? What do you do now?”

There’s another short pause as the three exchange glances.Eddie can’t quite decipher their facial expressions.

“Paperwork,” Richie finally answers. 

Eddie figures the “look” was because Richie must _hate_ doing that. He’s always thought Richie would go into entertainment or something with how much charisma he has, and how little tolerance he always had for all things boring. 

He flashes a sympathetic smile.

“Sounds fun.”

“You betcha, Spaghetti. Nothin’ more fun than filing for a living, amirite boys?” Richie explains, glancing between Bill and Stan. The latter shrugs in response.

“I don’t mind it,” Stan says. “It’s easy compared to being out in the field.”

Eddie raises an eyebrow at that, noticing the pointed look Bill shoots Stan’s way.

“I mean, sometimes we have to do cleanup operations and such… In the field,” Stan continues, tacking on the last bit a little awkwardly.

His eyes have an odd shine to them as he says it, but Eddie doesn’t question it. It could be a side effect of his Ability.

They end up talking for hours, laughing and joking just like old times.

Eddie falls easily into a familiar banter with Richie as though nothing has changed at all, as though they’re still just a couple of dumb kids in the small town of Derry. 

For a while, Eddie feels he can forget about everything.

He can forget about the fact that his life is centered around breaking into hero agencies and stealing from them. He can forget about the injustices that he, apparently alone, is striving to fix.

Even as the cafe closes and they’re all forced to leave, the only thing on Eddie’s mind is how much he loves his friends.

One by one, the others leave, until it’s just Eddie and Richie again. 

“Don’t be a stranger now, okay? You know I have no shame, I’ll come bother you at work if I don’t hear from ya,” Richie says as they’re about to part ways.

It’s a comforting thing to hear, to say the least. Knowing people actually care is nice, even if somewhere in Eddie’s brain it’s still hard to believe completely. 

“Please do. I don’t want to go another ten years without you guys.” Eddie says, earning a clap on the back in response.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Eds,” Richie promises.

And Eddie believes him.

* * *

**-10 years earlier-**

Eddie stares at the open air in front of him.

With his bedroom wall crumbled, Eddie’s _free_. Finally, for the first time in years, he’s actually free!

Before he can second guess himself, he leaps from the window, landing on the soft grass outside.

Dirt has never made him so happy before.

He could just take his shoes off and run around, he’s so excited! And, god, he can _smell_ the summer air, he can feel the light breeze caress his skin in a way that never really worked with just one barred window open.

But it’s not enough to just be outside. He has a mission here- he needs to find his friends.

The first place he runs to is the clubhouse, hoping someone would be there. But, when he finds it, it looks… abandoned. Their old knick knacks, comic books, and radio are covered in dirt and dust. The hammock- god, how many hours had he and Richie spent in that thing?- had fallen at some point, one of the beams no longer in place to support it.

So they don’t use that anymore…

Eddie’s face falls as he takes a look around. He’d only gotten to spend a few months there, but that clubhouse was like a second home. And now… it’s just remains of something that once was.

Well, they _are_ all 18 now. Maybe the others don’t need a clubhouse anymore.

So he heads to Richie’s.

The house is just how Eddie remembered it- except that’s not Richie’s bike in the yard, and that’s not his parents’ car in the driveway. And, when Eddie catches a glimpse of someone through what used to be Richie’s bedroom window, he knows that it's no longer the Tozier’s house.

Eddie’s heart sinks. 

So he heads to Stan’s house. Then Ben’s, Bill’s, and even Beverly’s… but nobody is there. They aren’t just _not there_ , they aren’t just not home, they…

They all moved on.

Eddie remembers Mike’s family farm then- there’s no way they would’ve up and moved, even if Mike went off to college somewhere. He could talk to the Halnon’s and see what’s up.

Eddie runs faster than he’s ever run before, and he expects to feel his lungs _burning_ by the time he’s even halfway there- but the feeling never comes.

He feels _alive_ , he feels _energetic_ , he feels like he could take on the fucking world!

The streets turn into blurs of colors in front of him. Has anyone ever run this fast before? 

Eddie thinks this is how Bill must feel when he’s on his prized bike, Silver, which he always said could beat the devil. Eddie feels like he could beat the devil right about now.

Until he reaches the Hanlon’s farm.

The farmhouse is torn down, the fields overgrown, no livestock in sight.

Nothing…

So they all just… left? They left him, and didn’t even visit for a goodbye? 

They probably went off to college, all of them. Stan probably got into NYU like he always said he wanted to. Bill was surely writing, and Richie would probably have a comedy show by the end of the year. 

And Eddie wouldn’t get to fucking see any of it! While his friends live their dream, what can _he_ do? He’s stuck with his fucking mom, and none of them even had the decency to check on him? To write him? To say goodbye?

Not even _Richie?_

Eddie feels the heat pooling in his hands before he sees the glow.

And nothing fucking matters, not a single thing fucking matters right now. Who cares if anyone catches him using his Ability? What would they do, bring him back to his mom? He would have to fucking do that anyway!

So he holds his hands in front of him and _screams_ louder than he thought he could.

The blast hits several trees that stand where the farmhouse used to, and they each topple over with a series of loud crashing.

Eddie clenches his jaw as he looks at the damage. He doesn’t need a mirror this time to know his eyes are glowing too- and he doesn’t care. Raising his arms, he blasts another tree.

Then another.

Then another.

He’s screaming the whole time, a string of curses leaving his mouth as he wreaks havoc.

Because what the _fuck_ is he gonna do now? Where could he go?

He stays out for a while, until the sun sets and the town of Derry is painted in orange hues. It would be pretty if he didn’t hate it so much.

And it’s gonna be hard, but he decides then that going back home isn’t an option.

It’s an hour by car to the nearest train station. Not taking his bike is looking like a pretty stupid decision right about then… but, he couldn’t risk going back. His mom would probably have the cops on lookout.

So he starts walking.

The only sounds along Derry’s dirt roads are the buzzing of flies and the chirping of spring peepers. For all Eddie knows, the town may as well be abandoned otherwise. 

He finds himself zoning out as he walks along, humming a little tune as he comes upon the kissing bridge. With all the times he and his friends had run past this bridge while trying to escape bullies, Eddie almost wants to take off out of habit. But, he figures the old bullies were probably gone too.

The bridge looks the same. Some homophobic sayings he remembered well were still etched into the wood, though he noticed someone had crossed one of them out, carving ‘pride’ right below it.

Another carving reads ‘i love my gay bf’, and about a foot to the left he reads ‘bi bi bi’.

So maybe things had changed while he was locked up. And maybe it isn’t the worst thing ever.

There are a few more happy carvings that Eddie lets himself read over. Some positive messages here, some hearts and little doodles there- all interspersed with Derry’s classic bigotry, but it’s nice to see some variety.

And then, something catches his eye, in big, proud letters, right on the top plank.

R+E.

He spends a good few minutes looking at it, letting it remind him of someone that he might’ve loved once. Someone who he’d probably never see again, unless he ends up making it big as a comedian, like he’d always wanted.

Logically, he knows Richie didn’t carve it. Someone who cared enough to carve that wouldn’t just leave. But, Eddie lets himself linger in the daydream.

When it’s time to go, Eddie pulls out his CD player, popping in his outdated headphones and pressing ‘play’.

> _Because I'm still in love with you_
> 
> _I want to see you dance again_
> 
> _Because I'm still in love with you_
> 
> _On this harvest moon_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was not expecting so many nice comments! Each and every one means so much to me, thank you so much!
> 
> [I forgot to add this at first omg]  
> Richie's mix CD [HERE!!](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/644XtmZs31kZ9u6lycLoOG): https://open.spotify.com/playlist/644XtmZs31kZ9u6lycLoOG
> 
> Feel free to hop into my tumblr inbox [HERE!!](http://thefloralpeach.tumblr.com) or my instagram , both are thefloralpeach :)


	4. Contemplation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Richie and Eddie have some things to think about.  
> Photon will not give Forcefield a break.

“Guess who finally got that part for the system because  _ someone _ is too lazy to send maintenance to do it instead!”

Richie saunters into the office area, announcing his success as he proudly holds up a small bag. Tired desk employees shoot irritated glances at him, but he couldn’t care less. Bothering them is almost habitual by now.

“You know you were supposed to have that like, two days ago right?” Beverly raises an eyebrow, pausing in fiddling with her uniform gloves just to chide him.

She looks like she just got back from patrol, if her messy hair and scuffed boots are anything to go by. She’s still in her uniform, a mask to cover her eyes and a flexible flame-retardant suit, along with gloves of the same fabric. Her supply belt and oxygen mask rest on the table beside her, both labelled with her hero name: Kerosene.

“‘You know you were supposed to have that like two days ago right,’” Richie mimics her voice poorly in response, making her snort. “I know damn well when I was supposed to have it, but as you  _ know _ I got a little busy! Man, can’t they send someone else anyway? I’m supposed to be-”

“Yeah, yeah, supposed to be a superhero, we know. And you are, but you  _ know _ these other tasks come with the job too!” Beverly rebukes. 

Richie brushes her off, waving dismissively as he walks by.

“Whatever, fireball, leave me alone and let me complain!”

He knows she’s just joking; it’s kind of their thing, to poke at each other. Only one other person had ever been able to keep up with Richie’s relentless teasing before: a scrawny little ball of energy with an inhaler and a fanny pack. 

There’s some news report droning on in the background about missing heroes, which is almost certainly made up. Richie ignores it as he heads to Maintenance, then up to the break room.

Bill and Mike are chatting over iced green teas (nerds) at the center table when Richie enters, making a bee line for the couch and flopping gracelessly on top of it. He sighs as he sinks into the cushions, feeling especially appreciative today of their squashy comfort.

The conversation at the table keeps going- some insanely in depth conversation about the philosophical connotations of God, whatever the  _ fuck _ that means. He flips over, facing the two, sighing loudly and obnoxiously. 

There’s a pause in the conversation, and Mike peeks over towards the couch.

“What’s up Richie?” He asks, a patient smile on his face.

Richie, in response, sighs dramatically once more.

“Oh, it’s fine, don’t stop your conversation for lil’ ole me,” he drawls in a southern belle voice, adding an exaggerated waver a bit at the end to mimic crying.

“Okay, cool,” Bill responds, without moving his gaze from Mike. “So anyways-”

“Hey, hey!” Richie protests. 

Mike snickers as Bill tries to hide a smile, and finally they both turn in their chairs to face their friend, who was serving as a sad dramatic sack on the couch.

“What’s troubling you, young hero?” Mike asks in a dramatic, low tone.

“Christ, don’t do the wise mentor voice with me. You know I’m supposed to be the voice guy!” Richie points an accusing finger.

“Richie, just t-t-t-tell us what’s up, lunch hour doesn’t last forever,” Bill says.

Richie hoists himself up on the couch, ditching his dramatic position to sit with his legs crossed.

“Guys, are we assholes for not telling Eddie?”

Bill and Mike’s expressions both fall, as if they hadn't been expecting such a serious question. But it’s been on Richie’s mind from the second he lied to Eddie about what he did for a living.

Ultimately, Mike is the first to answer.

“No, Rich, we’re not assholes for it. A reunion after ten years is already emotional.It wasn’t the right time to spring that on him too,” he reassures.

And, logically, Richie knows he’s right. Especially considering that Eddie apparently despises heroes- although, who can blame him? If Richie had waited ten years for a hero that never came, he’d probably be pissed too. But, as a hero, it’s not the best news.

“And, to be honest,” Bill chimes in, “He’s probably safer  _ not _ knowing, especially with all that’s been going on. W-w-we knew when we signed up for this that our id-identities would be mostly secret.” 

Richie wants to interrupt with a ‘yeah, yeah,’, but he opts instead for a quiet sigh, his head hung low. 

“You’re right. I know, you’re right,” he resigns.

Bill and Mike look at him expectantly, and Richie can feel their eyes on him despite his downward gaze.

“But…?” Mike prompts.

“It just… it feels wrong, okay? Here’s this guy that I thought about every day for  _ years _ , and now he’s finally back and I’m gonna lie to him about everything I do?”

It’s a vulnerability that Richie doesn’t normally show. Sure, complaining is one thing, and he could usually get off with some good advice without the added pressure of opening up. But this is something he needs reassurance on. And, unfortunately, validation is something that requires his arch nemeses: honesty about feelings.

And, of the two men in front of him, Mike is  _ definitely _ the better of the two with feelings. Bill, on the other hand, is denser than fudge.

“I know. I feel the same, sort of. But,” Mike offers, shrugging his shoulders. “All in good time, you know? We just got him back, and  _ he _ just got  _ us _ back too. Remember, he thought we just left him…” He trails off then, his expression sullen.

Richie doesn’t miss how Bill’s eyes soften, and the slight twitch of his hand towards Mike.

They both know Mike has a bit of a complex about people leaving him, for personal reasons. Learning what Eddie had gone through probably hit him a little harder because of it.

“What I mean is, we don’t wanna overwhelm him right now. So no, we’re not assholes.” Mike continues, lifting his head up and shooting a soft grin to Richie. “At least, not because of this.”

Richie figures, maybe Mike is right. Hell, maybe he’s not. But at the very least he sounds like he’s in a similar boat. He’s obviously been struggling with this too.

And that’s the validation Richie needed.

“I know, I just don’t wanna hide things from him. Not after…” Richie trails off.

Not after what? After ignoring that he was fucking in love with Eddie? After keeping his feelings bottled up so extremely tight to be sure that no one would find out? Only to lose him for what he believed to be forever? After spending days, months,  _ years _ thinking about his best friend, who was stuck with a mom more suffocating than a plastic bag over the head? 

No. He doesn’t wanna lie to Eddie. Not after everything. More so, he doesn’t want to lose his chance to… well, let’s be honest, to  _ not  _ tell Eddie again. As if he’d have enough balls to actually say something this time. Just like he missed his chance as a teen because he was too much of a coward to say anything, he knows he’ll do it again. It’s so pathetic, it’s almost funny.

Because maybe he’s accepted the being gay part of himself, (moving to a big city was probably a contributing factor to that), but telling the love of your life that you  _ love him  _ when he’s also the best friend you left ten years ago? Sue him if he’s a little more hesitant with that one.

Bill and Mike are saints for being patient enough to give Richie a moment of internal monologuing, but the silence quickly becomes deafening.

“Not after. You know. Ditching him and all that shit,” Richie continues.

Mike and Bill seem to believe his word, which is mostly true anyway. He’s not  _ lying _ , per se, there’s just… more to it than he lets on.

Story of his fucking life, right?

“Try not to b-b-b-beat yourself up over it, man. W-w-we’re all in the same boat here. And he really is safer as an innocent civilian right now,” Bill adds.

At that moment, a chime comes from a speaker overhead, indicating a shift change.

Almost simultaneously, Mike and Bill press the buttons on their respective bracelets, and they’re both clad in their patrol uniforms in a fraction of a second.

Mike’s deep green uniform, along with the other Losers’ uniforms, is padded along the joints. It’s embellished with camouflage patches, which he can extend with the press of a button to blend in with the plants he grows. His belt, which is currently resting on the back of the chair, is equipped with various seeds and water packets to enhance his Ability in battle. Lastly, he’s armed with a fitted hood, spotted with small UV lights to stimulate his Growth. 

Bill’s uniform is relatively simple, a deep blue jumpsuit with a mask that obscures his eyes and mouth so he can freely use his Manipulation without the opponent noticing. Because he has a mostly non-physical Ability, his uniform has a bit more padding than the others’, and his utility belt holds a lot of getaway equipment.

It’s all top-level technology, fit for heroes. 

And, even better, it looks badass as hell.

“We’ll see you later, Richie. Take it easy for now, okay?” Mike bodes as he clips his belt into place.

Richie gives a two-fingered salute in response.

“Try not to die, oh Mighty Ones!”

* * *

Eddie lays low for a few days; partly because he doesn’t want to draw too much attention to Photon, but also because he has a lot to think about. He spends a lot of this time ruminating over the reunion with his friends

Even at work, his mind is preoccupied with it, which can get frustrating when it interferes with his ability to do his job. The world doesn’t stop just because he’s finally been reunited with his long-lost best friends. But, it’s hard to ignore his thoughts when their smiling faces are so sweet in his mind.

Even still, there are some concerns that conflict the fondness he feels over it all.

They were genuine about everything, he knows they were. He can’t exactly say he isn’t angry about the past, but he also doesn’t hold anything against them. That’s not the problem Eddie faces though.

The  _ real _ issue bugging his mind is: how the hell do you act around people you haven’t seen in ten years? How do you start a friendship again? What do you do when you meet your first crush again and he gives you his number?

It’s not like Eddie has other friends he can go to for advice- although, Don would probably be nice about it. But Eddie’s not springing that on his boss. 

So, as he lays on his couch with a cup of espresso, he takes to good old Google for some advice.

Youtube has a few obnoxious options about talking to an old crush again, and Quora and Wikihow have some more friendship-oriented results. Maybe the advice isn’t terrible, but it doesn’t quite fit Eddie’s situation.

One thing he latches onto, though, is a piece of Wikihow advice- connect on social media.

He can do that, right? Tweeting and stuff? He technically has one already, it just has two retweets of cool-looking old cars on it. It wouldn’t be totally weird to find the others there, right?

Or maybe he’s just fucking kidding himself. He’d gotten all their numbers anyway, he just hasn’t been able to muster up the courage to message them.

Maybe he only needed to talk to one, though…

Eddie shoves his forgotten coffee onto his side table so he can curl up on the couch, huddling into a comfort position. He opens his messaging app, taking a deep breath to calm his nerves before he presses Richie’s name. Then- wait, shit. Shit, why is it calling?

Eddie almost drops his phone, and by the time he gets a solid hold on it to hang up, he hears a voice through the speaker.

“Eddie Spaghetti? To what do I owe the pleasure?” Richie greets, his voice chipper as ever.

Eddie sputters for a moment in his panic, unsure of what to say. He resigns to raising the phone to his ear, and jumping headfirst into this. Or maybe it’s more of a nosedive, who knows.

“I uh- okay, honestly, I tried to message you and ended up dialing instead. Pause for laughter.”

He can hear Richie stifling himself, letting out a snort instead.

“Now  _ why _ would I  _ ever _ laugh at my dearest Spaghetti man?” Richie responds, his voice tinged with a clearly fake innocuous tone. Eddie couldn’t stop himself smiling if he tried.

“You  _ just _ laughed at me, don’t think I didn’t hear that!” Eddie accuses, and Richie scoffs.

“Damn! I thought I covered the mic, my bad.”

“Yeah, your bad is fucking right.”

Richie laughs again, and Eddie realizes how much he really missed it. His laugh, when genuine, has always been full, dorky, and unabashedly loud. For a moment, when Eddie hears it, everything is okay in the world. But soon enough, reality comes crashing back down on him.

“So what’s the deal, Eds? What’d you wanna message me about?” Richie asks.

Eddie blanches. What  _ did _ he want to message Richie about? What are words, again?

He takes a page out of Richie’s book then, speaking his mind without thinking twice about it.

“Jus’ wanted to reach out, I guess.”

He pauses for a moment before deciding on his next words. Then he lets out a sigh and continues,“I don’t want that one coffee to be the only time we talk to each other.”

There’s a silence on the other line that has Eddie quietly panicking, until he hears a soft ‘huff’.

“You fucking dumbass, you really think I’m gonna let you go after that?” Richie assures, his grin evident in his voice.

Eddie picks at a stray fabric on his pants as he responds. Part of him wishes they were talking in person, but he has the feeling he’d find a way to be even more insecure if that were the case. Hell, maybe Richie would, too. After all, neither of them had ever been the best with feelings. 

“Well, I haven’t heard from you in two days-”

“‘Cause I’ve been busy at work!” Richie cuts him off. “Okay, listen. I have to work all day tomorrow, but I have Sunday off, okay? I’ll come piss you off in person. We can grab a triple espresso or whatever fucking heart attack it was you ordered. Or you can fix my car!”

“You don’t have a car,” Eddie grills, but there’s a clear grin on his face.

“I could have a car!” Richie shoots back, and it takes a lot of strength for Eddie to hold back his laughter in response. 

“You  _ told _ me on Wednesday that you didn’t have a car!” 

“And you believed me? Sounds like a You Problem, man.”

Eddie guffaws, losing it then, and Richie’s right behind him. If they were in person, Eddie would probably flick the side of Richie’s face or steal his glasses in teasing protest, or something equally stupid- because that’s what they always were. Equally stupid. 

“I’ll see you Sunday then, trashmouth?” 

Eddie hates the flutter in his chest as he says it, but that’s a name he never thought he’d be using again. Who’s gonna sue him for being a little sentimental?

“Wouldn’t miss it for the fuckin’ world, Spaghetti.”

After their conversation ends, and he hangs up, Eddie takes a moment to just sit in the pleasant silence. He plays the conversation over in his head; unlike a lot of conversations he’s had, he doesn’t regret this one. Not at all.

He’s still smiling as he grabs the missing child file folders from his desk. He can almost pretend that everything is normal until he starts checking them over again.

It’s then that he realizes, maybe the question he should have been asking was: how do you restart a friendship when you’re, for lack of a better term, a vigilante?

* * *

After Bill and Mike return from their shift, it’s Richie and Ben’s turn to patrol their own designated area; North of the city, while Beverly and Stan take the South end.

Richie’s uniform is dark blue, almost black, with some lighter indigo accents along the seams. He has extra padding and support around his shoulders, elbows, and wrists, since his Ability is largely rooted in using his hands. 

He thought it would be pretty sexy and mysterious of him to wear boots that reach over his knees, and luckily the design department allowed it. They did not, however, allow the bright yellow Batman belt, instead suggesting an indigo to match his fields. They denied him a batarang too, those bastards.

Ben’s uniform is a dull grey color, and much like Mike’s uniform, its purpose is camouflage. Though, the difference with Ben’s uniform is the camouflage is against rocks instead of plants. A thin layer of stone covers parts of his jumpsuit, and his belt is made of compressed, recycled dirt- both design aspects meant to ensure that he always has a weapon. 

The two make a pretty good team, mostly because Ben is too nice to ever tell Richie to shut the fuck up.

But, they’re also good because they trust each other. Both Ben and Richie have pretty good instincts, which has earned them a lot of success as a duo in the past. 

Usually, patrol is calm. Walk around, check things out, make sure the city isn’t exploding. Every now and then there’s some good action, and Richie’s usually the first to hop to the scene. But tonight, his mind is elsewhere, and Ben catches on. Stupid good friend motherfucker.

“You’re distracted,” Ben hums as they’re walking down the block.

Richie turns his head, definitely to check the scene and make sure everything’s all okay. He’s certainly not avoiding Ben’s Honesty Hour Gaze.

“What do you mean? I’m as present as ever, Haystack!”

Ben’s silence is honestly more unnerving than the friendly protest that Richie expects. He turns his attention back to Ben, and nearly jumps out of his own skin as he’s met with Ben’s eyes staring right into his fucking soul.

“Woah, woah! Oh my god okay!”

Richie folds like a cheap suit even though Ben’s gaze really does hold nothing but genuine concern.

“Okay, so we’re gonna try again. You seem distracted, Richie.”

Is it possible to feel threatened by how  _ much _ a friend cares? Enough so to see through the bullshit?

Richie sighs, putting his hands up in defeat.

“Alright, alright, you got me. I talked to Eddie today,” he admits. 

“Is he okay?” Ben asks, his face immediately softening.

“He’s fine, I’m fine. I’m gonna see him on Sunday, it’s fucking great!” Richie spills, and Ben raises an eyebrow. 

There’s not much else to say without spilling the whole childhood crush nonsense. Even though Ben of all people would be sympathetic, it’s not what Richie needs at the moment. He doesn’t think he can handle the overwhelming emotional support Ben would most definitely give in response. 

“Buuut?” Ben prompts. 

“Honestly? No ‘buts’. I’m just, I’m excited to see him, ya know? And I guess I don’t wanna mess anything up.”

“ _ There’s _ the ‘but’.”

Richie huffs, and reaches a hand out to shamelessly smack Ben’s sweet ass. He’s rewarded with a squeal as Ben jumps away from the sudden contact.

“No,  _ there’s _ the butt. Ha, see what I did there?”

“Dude!”

Ben looks like he’s about to continue, but the sound of breaking glass interrupts the conversation. Richie’s not sure if he’s thankful for the interruption or dreading the ensuing battle and paperwork.

“No time for sore asses Benny Boy, methinks we have a villain afoot!” Richie announces, and they’re off before either of them can say another word.

* * *

Turns out some asshole with the Ability to shoot knife-like monstrosities from his skin decided to rob a bank. Fun!

Not that it was that much of a problem. Between Ben’s easy manipulation of the store’s concrete walls and Richie’s strong fields, it was over pretty quickly. The guy didn’t have much of a plan after his knife-skin stopped working.

By the time their patrol is over, it’s about eight at night.

And by the time the other heroes finish their work and end their shifts, it’s almost nine.

And finally, by the time Ben finishes his necessary paperwork, it’s about ten.

Then there’s Richie, who is finishing  _ his  _ paperwork at fucking midnight. Once again, it’s just him and custodial staff, in it for the long haul.

He often considers whether anyone would actually fire him if he just decided to neglect the paperwork altogether. But if they were brave enough to scrap him, he really doesn’t have a backup plan. So he does the stupid report every time.

Despite everything, at least there’s Spotify. Richie has a good playlist of The Doors playing on full volume to get him through this yawnfest.

He’s able to get into a pretty good groove that actually forces him to focus.

That is, until he hears an unsettlingly distinct  _ thump _ coming from the ceiling. 

Richie pauses in his typing to slowly look up at the ceiling. Then he lets out a loud, long sigh.

“Fucking figures,” he mutters to himself, shoving himself away from the computer and standing up.

The floor above him is all secure files- locked safes, encrypted security computers, the whole nine yards of shit he wasn’t trained to understand. The whole floor is equipped with cameras, passcode-protected entryways, and bolted doors. But Richie knows just the guy who’d be able to get through all of that shit.

Thankfully, his uniform is already on him as he runs to the back stairwell. He throws the door open, ignoring the loud  _ bang _ it makes as it collides with the wall. He races up the stairs, internally groaning as he hears shit being thrown around. Luckily, he can use hero clearance to access the file floor, and-

“You gotta be  _ fuckin’ _ kidding me!” Richie yells.

Upon entering the chaos that is the main floor, he knows this is gonna be one hell of a night.

The security systems on most of the doors are busted, including the other stairwell’s access door. Documents are strewn across the floor, and one of the steel doors to a top-security file room is now sporting a giant hole right through the middle of it.

The thought crosses his mind that...maybe yelling wasn’t the best idea, because all of a sudden, everything stills.

A soft indigo shimmer covers Richie’s body as he puts a defensive field up around him. Carefully, he sneaks further into the room, avoiding the scattered papers so he can be as quiet as possible.

After a few moments, there’s a rustle around the corner. Richie adjusts his path, staying close to the nearest wall and creeping towards the noise.

“Look, I know you’re here, so it’s useless to pretend you’re not, dude!” Richie calls out.

Maybe he could lure the guy to him, trap him, and get the rest of the team here to find out what the fuck is happening.

It’s weird, though, being up on a floor where he’s surrounded by files he’s contractually obligated  _ not _ to look at. He doesn’t know exactly what he’s protecting. But if it’s not allowed in  _ his _ hands, then it definitely shouldn’t be in a  _ villain’s _ hands.

He cautiously inches forward, remembering what happened the last time he faced this guy. He isn’t planning on getting blasted through any walls again. And definitely not into any filing cabinets- that shit hurt.

“You’re called Photon, right?” Richie says, trying to sway the villain to show himself. “You’re the one stealing files from all over the place? Why don’t you come out and tell me what you’re after?”

Richie stills, pressing close to the wall during the few moments of near deafening silence that follow.

And then, at least three steel tables are flying towards him.

“Shit!” he yells as he dodges.

They crash into the door behind him, and again he feels sorry for whoever has to clean this mess up. At the same time though, he supposes he can’t pity them too much because at least they’re not getting fucking  _ tables  _ thrown at them.

As the chaos settles, Richie can hear something else: the tapping of a keyboard. 

Richie doesn’t know  _ what _ is on the computers, but he knows he does  _ not _ want this guy to have it. 

They really need better security here.

He curses under his breath as he lunges forward, racing to the opening of the main area. There are maybe thirty or so computers in the room, all with advanced security access. Someone is bent over one of the desktops, and Richie promptly shoots an offshoot field at them.

Richie’s Ability allows him to create a handful of ‘fields’ at a time. They’re not just shields or weapons, because they can honestly function as anything. That’s why the official title of his Ability isn’t Shielding, Protection, or Weapons- it’s Force. 

The problem is, each field he makes is weaker than the last. The one he keeps around his body is near impenetrable, but unfortunately, any other field that he additionally creates as a weapon won’t be so strong.

But they’re still forceful enough to knock Photon backwards.

The villain grunts as he takes a direct hit, careening backwards towards the wall. Somehow, he catches his balance and reorients himself, raising his hands to counter. Richie has two more fields at the ready, but he’s almost blinded by a fucking blast of light before he can even shoot. It whirs right past him, but it’s enough to be disorienting as hell.

Richie almost misses his chance as Photon charges forward, but he quickly launches the two smaller fields in his hand. Photon slams into the opposite wall with a grunt, and slumps to the floor.

“So. Photon, right?” Richie asks again, more fields ready to go.

The villain glares in response.

Like last time, he’s clad in black, a hood cloaking his face and a mask covering his mouth. The only part of his face Richie can actually make out is his almost golden eyes, which have an odd brightness to them. 

“What’s it to you?” he grumbles as his arms begin to glow. He shoots at Richie, but it’s blocked by a protective field.

Richie shrugs casually in response.

“I dunno, I like to know the villains I’m fighting.”

The man in question stands up, but pauses before answering.

“I am  _ not _ a villain. I’ve never killed anyone,” he protests.

Richie finds the exchange kind of amusing.

“Well, stealing files from an agency doesn’t make ya look too good, man,” he responds as he shakes his head.

Suddenly, in a move he hopes takes the villain by surprise, Richie tosses a field in an attempt to capture the mysterious man. Photon is too quick, rolling out of the way at the last second.

Richie dodges the blast that is promptly aimed at him in response, and the wall behind him takes a pretty bad hit.

“I’m  _ not _ a fucking villain, I’m trying to fucking help people. Not like you’d care!”

Photon’s words are followed by three consecutive blasts, all of which are blocked by Richie’s fields.

The frustration is palpable on the not-villain’s face as Richie blocks the attacks, more or less unphased by them.

“Listen, whatever you think you’re doing, it’s just causing more harm than good.” Richie blocks another blast as he speaks. “If you’re really trying to help people, let me do my fucking job without making me pause my shit to fight you!”

Richie goes on the offense, rushing Photon and sending two fields his way, once more with the goal of enveloping him. Of course, the man dodges again, shooting back at Richie with an incredible energy.

“You don’t fucking understand what you’re protecting!”

Richie pauses at that.

Honestly… he’s right. Richie  _ doesn’t _ know what he’s protecting here. But he knows he has to. He knows it’s for the greater good, he knows that this agency, at its core, works to protect people.

He snaps out of his momentary lapse of reason as quickly as he fell into it.

“And you _do_? You might wanna do some fucking research dude, in case you forgot, we’re a fucking hero agency! I’m _protecting_ _people_ while you try to fucking kill me, asshole!”

“I’m not trying to kill you, I’m trying to solve missing children's cases that  _ your agency _ is covering up!” Photon yells, his fists clenched. Thankfully, no blast follows.

Richie’s been lied to by villains trying to get his guard down before. He doesn’t believe a word this guy says.

He doesn’t.

He doesn’t even consider it.

Richie’s guard is only down for a moment, but Photon takes full advantage of the hesitation. He lunges forward- not towards Richie, but towards the computer he’d been typing at.

He sends out a blast at the same time Richie shoots a field, and the two cancel each other out with a loud  _ crash _ . For a moment, the collision is so bright that Richie can’t see anything. He shields his eyes in an attempt to block out the blinding harshness of the exploding light.

“What the fuck,” he mutters mostly to himself as the air clears.

He catches a glimpse of Photon grabbing something from the computer, most likely a USB drive, and then his hands are aimed at the window. 

“No- fuck!” Richie yells.

He shoots a field at Photon that reaches nearly floor to ceiling, but after another burst of blinding light and the unfortunate sound of glass shattering, the man is gone.

Richie stands, alone and defeated in the remains of what’s supposed to be the agency’s most secure room.

Sucking in a breath, he runs a hand through his hair, and he can almost hear the investigation crew yelling at him already.

“FUCK!” Richie screams into the empty room and out into the open sky.

* * *

The next day comes with about as much interrogation as Richie had expected.

There are multiple conferences regarding an increase in security, as well as more secretive meetings that Richie and the other heroes are not invited to. He’s certain, without a doubt, that these meetings are about the nature of what was stolen.

He hates the commotion, the questioning, and the interruption of his daily life. But, most of all, he hates that he can’t stop thinking about those fucking files.

He’d been raised to trust these guys, and he does. They’d all been trained to be good, respectful heroes, and nothing would be possible without agencies like this one. Richie trusts them.

But he can’t help the way his mind wanders. After all, it’s not like Richie has ever been good at controlling his thoughts.

Since his report from the night before had been left neglected and forgotten on his computer following the fight, Richie uses the time between meetings to finish; all the while pushing the exhaustive droning about consequences to the very back of his attention. Plus, he has to fill out an extra report about Photon now. It’s truly a fucking fantastic day.

He’s on his way to another emergency conference when he’s approached by a few people in lab coats. Given their attire, he assumes them to be from the research department. Richie rarely ever interacts with the employees down there, but at the moment, he honestly doesn’t mind the distraction.

“How can I help you fine fellows?” he asks.

The polite smiles on the three researchers’ faces are a little unsettling, but probably because they’re forced. Richie can’t exactly blame them.

“You’re the hero known as Forcefield, yes?” the one in front asks.

“The one and only,” Richie affirms with a nod. “Need somethin’ from me?”

“Would you mind coming with us for a few minutes? Doctor Robert Gray would like to speak with you about some things,” the scientist responds, their voice almost robotic. Richie’s reminded then and there why he never interacts with the research department.

“Uhh…” Richie begins, glancing over his shoulder to the other heroes on his team. 

It looks like they finally caught a break. Bill and Mike are heading towards the break room, and Beverly looks like she’s in casual conversation with Stan. Nothing urgent at the moment, and Richie doesn’t have patrol until later.

“Sure, why not?” he agrees, but backtracks shortly after. “Wait, I’m not in trouble for somethin’ am I?”

The scientist grins and shakes their head, all very polite.

“No. He just wants to ask you some questions regarding your Ability.”

Richie figured they already had everything they needed back when he arrived at the agency. His training facility had sent all of his records over, right? But, maybe not. Plus, research means finding new things, so maybe there’s more to discover. If he can unlock more to his power, that would be pretty cool.

He gestures ahead of himself.

“Lead the way, then!”

The scientists turn around, and Richie follows them into the elevator.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed the chapter! Huge shoutout to [SittingInACoffeeShop](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SittingInACoffeeShop/pseuds/SittingInACoffeeShop) for reading my stuff over and giving me so many helpful notes! 10/10 recommend checking out her fics as well!!! 
> 
> I'm entering my last two weeks for the semester so I may be a little slow with the next few chapters, but rest assured that they're in progress!
> 
> ALSO reminder I make art for each chapter! For anyone curious, my [Instagram (TheFloralPeach)](https://www.instagram.com/thefloralpeach/) has visuals for Richie's uniform and Eddie's vigilante outfit. Feel free to follow and interact, I like friendship :)  
> I'm rambling now but BOTTOM LINE is thanks for reading, and thanks to anyone who's left a nice comment! I appreciate you all so much!!!!


	5. Suspicion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Richie figures something out  
> Ben is a good friend  
> Eddie discovers something horrible  
> Bill wonders why a crazy scientist is asking about his brother

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: brief description of child death (toward the end)

Eddie wakes up absurdly early on Sunday.

He doesn’t have plans until he has to meet Richie at one- the late sleeper hadn't ever fixed his habit of waking up at noon- but his mind is buzzing too much for him to go back to sleep. Actually, it had been buzzing for a few days. 

Because it’s  _ Richie _ . And they haven’t arranged a hangout in over a decade. And sure, last time Eddie saw him, they’d easily fallen back into their classic banter- but would it really just stay that way? Would it really be that easy?

The sun is barely up as Eddie gets out of bed to brew his classic espresso nightmare. 

A small USB device, along with some new files, loom at him from the kitchen table. He refuses to look at them yet, though. It would just freak him out and piss him off, and he doesn’t need any more nerves going into this.

He distracts himself with social media, reading up on some new hype shows, checking out some of his favorite car pages, and somehow resisting the urge to scroll through his friends’ Twitter feeds again. It had become a habit over the past few days to check all six pages a few times a day, even though none of them update that frequently. 

For some reason, it’s easier to check in on them that way than to actually message them. 

He’s still a little too anxious to reach out the way he wants to. He’s messaged each of them at least once, but never any real conversation. He’s nervous about picking up where they left off, because he’s not sure it’s possible. 

The way things go with Richie will more or less give Eddie that answer, he figures.

He sends a little good morning message, and then spends the next half hour ruminating over it, and whether or not he typed “good morning” wrong. No answer comes, but it’s only eight in the morning when Eddie sends it out. 

Waiting almost five hours before heading out is almost unbearable. Eddie tries just lying around and ‘relaxing’, but he needs to get up and move. Sitting still is torturous when something is on his mind.

So, he takes to cleaning his apartment; it was looking a little dusty anyway, his floor a little dirty, and his kitchen could use a wipe-down. It keeps him occupied until noon, at least.

Eddie heads over to the cafe earlier than he has to, because there’s nothing else to clean or otherwise occupy himself with. He ends up arriving about fifteen minutes to one; some would call that anxiety, but he calls it punctuality.

After grabbing a seat, he sends Richie a text, telling him he got a table, and continues to scroll while he waits.

The cafe is a pleasant little space, designed to be a cozy hangout. The chairs are almost all plush or cushioned in some way, perfect for curling up if need be. Each table either has a candle or a succulent on it- a college trend- and local artwork decorates the walls.

There are two TVs, one on each end of the cafe, which usually show the news. Being up-to-date on current events is apparently another college trend.

Eddie watches the headlines roll across the screen for a few moments, but of course there are no reports of the kids. Of course it’s just hero stuff- Mindgame did something cool, Earthquake is up for a Heroic Acts Award, blah blah blah. Eddie returns his attention to some mindless scrolling for the few minutes he has until Richie is supposed to arrive.

One o’clock comes, and he still hasn’t heard anything.

Should he be worried? Did something happen? Richie  _ does _ work at a hero agency after all...

One fifteen, and still radio silence. Eddie sends another text, asking Richie if he’s coming.

Then one thirty.

And Eddie knows how this goes. This is a game he’s played before. He waits, and waits, and waits for somebody who never shows.

He’s torn between staying and bolting as it hits one forty. It’s becoming harder to restrain his thoughts, though.

_ Why isn’t he showing up? Did he forget? Did he figure out what I am? _

_ Did he regret making plans, realize he should’ve stayed away and left me to rot like he did ten years ago? _

_ Did he decide I’m just not worth it? _

Eddie’s face starts heating up, so he decides bolting is the most logical option here. There’s really no need to cry in the middle of the cafe. But as he stands up to leave, he hears the door swing open, and he’s met with the flustered face of Richie Tozier.

The relief Eddie feels on top of everything else almost sends him to tears.

“Eds, I am so fucking sorry man,” Richie apologizes immediately, crossing the room to Eddie in a mere few steps. “I overslept, and then my messages weren’t going through for some reason, and- I’m so sorry.”

And maybe, just like ten years ago, the pain Eddie feels really isn’t Richie’s fault. Sometimes pain just happens. And sometimes, pain can be all too easily soothed by Richie’s stupid doofy self.

Eddie’s shoulders visibly slump as he lets out a tense breath and relaxes his face.

“It’s okay,” he assures. “I’m glad you made it.” Even though the leftover bits and pieces of hurt remain in his chest, it really is the truth.

Judging by the way Richie’s eyebrows are upturned, Eddie can tell that Richie sees through his words, and that he feels bad about it anyway. Eddie’s not here to make him feel guilty, though- he’s here to talk to a friend.

“Really, it’s fine,” he assures again. “Buy me a coffee and we’ll call it even, alright?”

Richie’s face softens, his previous frown melting away as his lips upturn. 

“You drive a hard bargain, Sir Spaghetti Esquire, but I accept your conditions.” His voice is a classic ‘British Royalty’ accent that had Eddie chortling despite the shitty nickname- which may be the most creatively terrible one yet.

They grab two drinks- Richie’s a simple latte, while Eddie’s is almost pure espresso- and head back to the table Eddie had claimed for them.

“I don’t know how you can drink that shit without dropping dead immediately of a caffeine overdose. I’m surprised they even let you order it!” Richie exclaims. “That’s gotta taste like fucking rocket fuel.”

Eddie laughs, mostly at Richie’s expression, which is somewhere between shocked and horrified in response to Eddie taking a sip.

“It’s a side effect of my Ability, smartass.”

Eddie knows Richie won’t press further about it, not after he spilled about his hatred of heroes and Abilities in general. But, he feels the explanation is fitting.

Richie rolls his eyes, putting his hands up in defense.

“Oh,  _ pardon me, Sir _ , I must have misplaced my Encyclopedia of Everyone’s Ability And Their Side Effects,” he shoots back. Eddie can’t hold back his laughter if he tried.

“You’re excused. Just this once, though.”

The only thing better than getting to laugh at the stupid shit Richie says is being able to make  _ him _ laugh.

He lets the heat of the caffeinated nightmare warm his hands as he sits across from Richie. His worry melts away with each word he says, with each jab and poke he and Richie exchange, and it’s nice to know that they’re able to return to being  _ them _ so easily.

Even exchanging light insults and jabbing banter, they both laugh, and there's the ever-present, unspoken understanding that neither of them will take it too far. It’s a dynamic Eddie had missed. Nobody else had been able to keep up with him in the same way.

“I’m glad you finally showed,” Eddie says at one point, after they’d been conversing for maybe an hour. “I was starting to worry something happened at your agency or something.”

Eddie worries for a moment as an almost unsure expression flicks across Richie’s face, but he’s quick to answer and ease whatever scenarios had started forming in Eddie’s mind.

“Nah, nothing happens in my division, really. Although if I suddenly disappear, look for a guy named Robert Gray,” Richie fakes a shudder. “He gives me the fucking creeps.”

Eddie raises an eyebrow, much more interested in this than he should be. 

Richie’s safety is at the forefront of his mind though. He probably doesn’t know all the other shit happening among the hero agencies, so he doesn’t know to be careful.

“Robert Gray? Is he a hero…?” Eddie prods.

“Nah, he’s this crazy scientist guy down in research. I just ran into him the other day and he was asking a million questions about-” he pauses for a moment, “about Abilities.”

Eddie furrows his brow in concern, automatically suspicious. 

“Maybe you should stay away from him…”

“Aw, my little Spaghetti is worried about me!” Richie exclaims, scooting his chair close enough to Eddie’s to be able to throw his arm around the shorter man’s shoulders. “Don’t worry, Eds. He’s just a little weird, I promise I’ll be safe doing my good ole boring ass paperwork!” 

As if to punctuate his confidence, he ruffles Eddie’s hair, earning a squeaky protest in response.

“Okay, okay! Jeez!” Eddie says as he fixes his mussed hair. “Just be careful there. I’ve heard there’s some weird stuff happening around some agencies.”

“Psh,” Richie blurts, waving his hand as if waving away Eddie’s worry.

Maybe he’s veering into territory that he shouldn’t, but he’s allowed to be worried. Even if he doesn’t know exactly which agency Richie works for, he knows there are multiple ones involved in shady shit. And, he’s sure whoever’s evil enough to cover up child murders definitely doesn’t care about the safety of an office worker.

As if on cue, Eddie catches a glimpse of the news story on the TV behind them, the headline reading ‘Heroes Across New York Agencies: Missing’.

Eddie points to the screen then, watching as Richie’s eyes follow the gesture.

“Yeah ‘psh’, look at this shit Rich! If heroes aren’t fucking safe, then-”

“Holy shit,” Richie interrupts.

His voice is soft as a whisper, his expression suddenly serious. Eddie hadn't really been concerned for any missing heroes- they chose this job, after all- but Richie sure looks rattled.

“What- is it, is it anyone from your agency?” Eddie asks, to which Richie slowly shakes his head.

“No… shit, man. I just-” he pauses for a moment, his eyes flicking back and forth as he reads the subtitles. “I heard something about it a few days ago, but I didn’t think it was real.”

Eddie stays quiet for some time, then, watching the report with Richie.

Why hadn't his agency said anything, if it really is as big of an issue as the report made it out to be? Granted, of course news outlets can exaggerate; but it seems like logic that any type of agency or company, heroic or not, would be concerned if similar agencies were being attacked. Right?

After the report ends, Richie turns back to Eddie, visibly shaken by the news.

“Hey… you gonna be okay there, Rich?” Eddie asks. He tentatively places a hand on Richie’s shoulder, hoping it provides some semblance of comfort. “I know you’re not in like, the direct line of fire here, but still. Be careful, okay?”

Richie smiles then, dropping his usual antics.

“I’ll be fine, alright?” He holds out his pinky finger to Eddie. “Promise.”

Eddie returns the grin, his expression tinged with nostalgia as he wraps his pinky finger around Richie’s. 

* * *

Richie goes back to work on Monday, and for the first time in a while he finds himself jealous of those guys with 9-5, Monday through Friday jobs. He wants a two-day weekend to spend time with his friends, dammit!

And by friends, of course, he means Eddie. All of his other friends are on the same schedule as him, at the same job as him, working alongside him every day. 

And apparently, now, they’re all in danger, and nobody bothered to mention it to them.

It takes him crashing their morning briefing for most of the others to even know about it.

“So when were you guys gonna tell us that heroes are going missing, huh?”

It’s the first thing Richie blurts as he walks through the door, looking directly at the Suits from higher up in charge of general safety and situation control. There’s three of them in the room, one of them the department head, and that’s exactly who Richie addresses.

He’s met with shocked expressions from Ben, Stan, and Beverly- the three of them are like Richie, in that they’re not the type to watch news for fun. 

The department head, though, looks directly at Richie, almost challenging him.

“It’s common knowledge, Forcefield. The news is reporting it.”

The calmness in his voice just pisses Richie off more. 

“And you didn’t think that might have been something to brief us about? Or something to discuss contingency plans for?” Richie counters, and keeps going before any of them can hurl another excuse. “You don’t think maybe you should have fucking warned us, so I didn’t have to learn about it on a fucking date?”

He’s fuming too much to consider his poor choice of words. ‘Date’ just seemed to fit better than ‘not quite platonic coffee with the love of my life’. He’s also fuming too much to notice that Stan almost spits out his tea as he says it.

“Rich, I’m s-s-sorry, I saw the reports and should’ve said s-s-s-s-something-”

Bill, of course, tries to take responsibility for everything. But Richie shakes his head, not about to let that happen.

“No, that’s not your job.  _ Your _ job-  _ our _ job, is to save people, and  _ their _ job,” Richie looks pointedly at the Men in Black rejects at the other end of the table, “is to make sure we’re prepared.”

There’s a beat of silence while the rest of the heroes look expectantly at the team. Richie crosses his arms, his eyes locked on the department head and silently daring him to make a move.

“My apologies, heroes,” the man finally says, his tone stone cold with no hint of sincerity. “However, back to business-”

And just like that, he continues with the general briefing. 

Richie sits, arms crossed and eyes narrowed, for the remainder of the meeting to see if anything is mentioned. Unsurprisingly, it’s not. But at least the others know about it now, even if it’s not much.

He zones out a bit, as normal, and something pops into his head; a memory from his last fight with Photon, and words that hold a little more meaning to him now.

_ “You don’t fucking understand what you’re protecting!” _

* * *

Richie chances ignoring his paperwork for the day. He’s not in the mood, and he has a feeling that no one’s gonna get on his ass after that whole display.

In the break room, he sets a news channel on, where he, Stan, Beverly, and Ben get caught up on what’s happening. God knows the agency doesn’t seem to care very much.

It’s a little tense between the six heroes, because nobody really wants to talk about the implications here. If something this important to their safety is being ignored, then how safe are they, really? Even Bill, who’s usually more informed as unofficial group leader, doesn’t know any more than the rest of the team.

Richie thinks maybe Eddie has a point, hating agencies like this. Maybe there’s corruption in the ranks that he hadn't seen before.

Or maybe he’s just on edge and overreacting. That’s not too unlike him, honestly.

He messages Eddie to get his mind off of things. They don’t talk about anything serious, or important, or monumental in any sense, but it’s nice. It’s nice to have a friend back.

While on patrol with Ben- another late shift, of course- Richie finds himself thinking about Eddie a lot. And Ben, of course, sees right through him. Richie’s not so sure  _ he _ isn’t the one with the mind powers instead of Bill, here.

“So, you found out on a ‘date’, huh?” Ben asks casually as they walk the streets.

Richie sighs, hanging his head.

“Jeez, man, I’m talking important shit that could have our  _ lives _ at stake and  _ that’s _ what you got from it?”

He should’ve known Ben would betray him. That fucker’s the only one who knew he was seeing Eddie on Sunday, on the infamous aforementioned ‘date’.

Ben just raises an eyebrow, staring at Richie until he can’t take it anymore. The anticipatory silence is too damn much, the real-life equivalent of the dreaded text ellipses- and of course, Ben knows that.

“Okay, okay! My god, how do you do that?” 

Ben shrugs.

“It’s a gift. So…?” He asks expectantly, and Richie caves.

“I know it wasn’t a date, it just slipped out, okay?” Richie answers, and it’s a poor excuse. 

“You sure there’s not more to it than that?”

Richie huffs like a child. Yeah, so what if there is more to it? Why does he have to tell Ben- why does he have to talk about it at all? Is it not enough to keep his feelings to himself until he dies? Is it not enough to yearn?

“Yeah, okay Dr. Phil, maybe there is. So how’s it going with Beverly, hm?”

It’s a low blow, but Richie’s feeling a little petty.

Ben’s eyes widen in amusement, a grin tugging on his lips despite the insult.

“Okay first off,  _ ouch _ , and secondly, if you’re gonna compare me to a self-help guru I’d prefer to be Karamo Brown.”

“Noted.”

“Anyways, I think you  _ know _ you and Eddie had a different relationship than any of the rest of us,” Ben continues, unphased. “Even now, it’s you he reaches out to.”

“He hasn’t messaged you?” Richie asks.

“Once or twice, sure,” Ben replies, shrugging. “But I think you know it’s different with you. You just don’t want to admit it.”

Richie playfully raises an eyebrow as he glances towards Ben.

“Kind of like how you won’t admit the way Beverly goes out of her way to talk to you more than anyone else?” He teases, and then relishes in the subsequent blush on Ben’s face.

“That’s neither here nor there-” Ben defends, but Richie cuts him off.

“Oh, methinks it’s  _ very _ here. The  _ here _ is your refusal to make a move, the  _ there  _ is Beverly  _ clearly _ being into you,” Richie chides jovially.

Ben sputters for a moment.

“You  _ literally _ just described your own situation, dude!” He counters.

Richie rolls his eyes, and is ready to throw a quip back when he hears the sound of someone screaming in the distance. 

“No time for petty arguments, my fine fellow, the hunt is afoot!” Richie says in his best British accent, and takes off in the direction of the welcome distraction.

He assumes at first it’s an accident of some sort, or maybe a robbery; nothing deathly serious. But, when he and Ben arrive at the scene about a block away, it’s clear that’s not the case. 

The first thing Richie sees is a younger girl, no more than fourteen or fifteen in age, and he assumes she’s the source of the scream. He glances around, expecting to see more people running to help, but there’s no one there besides he and Ben.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay! We’re heroes, we can help- what happened?” Richie asks, bending down to the girl’s level to make eye contact with her. Or, well, try- she’s bawling her eyes out, from the looks of it. “Are you lost?”

“My- my- m-” she stammers, but the hiccups from crying stop her from getting out a coherent sentence.

Ben comes over to join then- he’s always been better with kids anyway. He instructs her to breathe, a hand on her shoulder to help, and after a few moments she tries again.

“My sister! It took- it took my sister!”

Ben’s face falls as he exchanges a worried glance with Richie.

“What did? Did you see where they went?” Ben asks, his voice surprisingly calm.

Richie looks around the street. It’s pretty much empty, being a sidestreet, and it doesn’t look like anyone’s around. There are no tire tracks that would mark a quick getaway, and there’s nobody on foot either. 

Something catches his eye, though, near the sidewalk.

“The clown, it was a- it- it was talking to her-” The girl continues to sob.

Richie inches closer, his eyebrows furrowed as he examines the scene.

It’s a sewer drain- but, surely not big enough to fit a kid older than five? She couldn’t have fallen through there, right? 

The dark substance that alarmingly resembles blood around the mouth of the entrance tells a different story.

“It’s okay, it’s okay, we’re gonna find her-”

Ben tries to reassure, but the girl continues to cry hysterically, babbling about the clown. It sends chills down Richie’s spine. He barely notices the sound of cars pulling up beside them through her sobs.

“Earthquake, can you move the concrete so we can get a better look? We might need to go down and-”

“We’ll take it from here, fellas.”

Richie turns around, met with the face of a detective from the agency. Another Men in Black reject. 

They’ll  _ take it from here _ ? Richie laughs in the guy’s face at the sheer absurdity.

“She just said some clown took her sister, and  _ you _ want to take it from here? No offense, but I think we’re a little more prepared to handle-”

“I said, we’ll take it from here, Forcefield.”

It was a command. Richie knows that voice, he understands when he’s being commanded, but there’s a little girl  _ sobbing _ in front of him.

“Sir, with all due respect, I don’t think we can just let this go-” Richie starts, but his attention is torn away by the sound of Ben protesting something.

“No- she’s  _ scared _ , guys you can’t just-” he pleads with the other officers as he’s torn away from comforting the girl.

“You’re relieved of duty for tonight. Don’t make me call the agency,” the detective commands again, his tone sinister. An officer behind him wields something that Richie hadn't seen in  _ years _ \- the old tasers that the Ability Task Force used to use before they were deemed inhumane.

Richie is speechless for what very well may be the first time in his life. 

It takes Ben tugging on his arm for him to even consider moving.

“Come on, come on man. Let’s go.”

Richie stares incredulously at the detectives as he’s pulled away from the scene, his mind buzzing because  _ this isn’t what the agency is supposed to do, what the fuck? _

The last thing he sees is the detectives corralling the young girl towards one of their vans before he and Ben turn the corner.

He doesn’t get a lot of sleep that night. 

* * *

Richie doesn’t come into work on Tuesday. Even heroes are allowed to call out sometimes.

Ben comes in, and is immediately briefed independent of the others. After that, he’s oddly silent the whole day. When anyone asks what’s wrong, he says it’s nothing.

Bill admits that he’s dense. He knows that sometimes he misses important details, that he acts on impulse because he doesn’t quite grasp the logic of things, and that he leads with his heart, not his head.

He admits that he can be wrapped up in his own emotions a lot, too. It’s why he was apparently the  _ last _ one to know that Ben was pining after Beverly, and also the last to know that Richie was pining just as hard over Eddie, even after only being reunited with him for about a week.

(Mike is the one to inform him that they were definitely in love as kids, too. That part flew right over Bill’s head.)

So yeah, Bill knows he’s dense. But he can  _ feel _ the shift in his teammates.

First off, Richie doesn’t take days off, at least not quietly. If he’s sick, he announces it loudly. If he’s skipping to go to a concert, he brags about it. Richie doesn’t just  _ drop _ off the face of the planet.

Bill messages him asking if he’s alright, but by noon, there’s still no answer.

Then, there’s Ben. He’s not the loudest of the group anyway, but he’s not one to isolate himself either. He’s always been the comforting, grounding presence that the team needs; it’s just his nature. But today, he’s near silent.

It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that something’s up.

He does his best to keep up with his role, and hopefully keep things normal enough for his other teammates.

Patrol with Mike is refreshingly uneventful, and the two end up discussing how the physics of the paranatural would work for almost the entire time. Bill values their conversations; they always end up like this. Sometimes Mike says things that he doesn’t fully understand, but it’s cool to listen to anyway.

It’s both a perfectly normal day and an unsettlingly abnormal one.

Once he’s back in the office, a team from the research department stops by, asking to speak with him. He follows them to their floor, where he sits in a waiting room for a scientist named Robert Gray. Apparently they want information on his Ability- which is strange, because he  _ knows _ the training facility sent his records over.

Didn’t they talk to Richie recently, too?

Bill forces himself to calm his thoughts as he waits. Just because it’s odd doesn’t mean it’s anything to worry about. Besides, whatever this scientist is doing, it’s been sanctioned by the agency.

And he trusts the agency. He does. They all do.

But… maybe a little peak into their heads won’t hurt.

It’s not something Bill is proud of, but it’s something he does every now and then. He knows he can be impulsive, so being sure of peoples’ intentions helps to avoid that. 

After a few minutes of sitting, a scientist opens the door to the waiting room.

“Doctor Robert Gray is ready to speak with you,” they announce.

So, Bill takes the chance to see their mind, but…

There’s nothing.

His face must show visible confusion as he hesitates to move from his seat.

“Sir?”

“Oh,” Bill finally responds, shaking his head. “S-s-sorry. Zoned out for a minute.”

His guard is up as he follows. Trusting blindly isn’t something he’s had to do in a long time.

The scientist leads him into a room that looks much like an office space. Papers are cluttered on the tables, and the computerized walls are littered with notes.

He presumes the man glued to his desk in the far corner is the aforementioned Robert Gray. It takes a few moments before he finally turns around in his chair, and Bill doesn’t think he likes the look on his face.

“Oh, pardon me,” he says. The way his voice seems to drip sends shivers down Bill’s spine. “You’re the Mindgame hero, right?”

Bill swallows thickly.

It’s probably just paranoia, but he’s immensely unsettled as he answers.

* * *

Eddie doesn’t know how he got lucky enough to be able to download the files that he did.

The files he’d grabbed in his first raid were useful, but there was so much redacted information. The USB files, however, are raw, and he was able to grab more with it than if he would’ve gone after more physical copies instead.

Even though he didn’t have to go to work, he still hadn't had the time to go through everything. That may or may not have been because he’d been texting Richie on and off all day. 

Apparently he’d gotten sick and was taking the Tuesday off. Eddie offered to visit him, to bring him soup at the very least, but Richie insisted on staying by himself; even after Eddie mentioned that he wouldn’t be at risk of catching what Richie had due to his Ability.

Part of him wanted to just show up anyway, but he didn’t know if they’re at that point yet again. And, above all, he wants Richie to feel safe,  _ comfortable _ , with him. 

In the early evening, Richie takes a break from his phone to nap. It’s a little embarrassing how much Eddie misses talking to him, even after just a few minutes. But, at least it gives him time to examine everything; there’s a  _ lot _ of files on this USB drive.

He opens the first set of documents, and his heart sinks.

_ Autopsy reports _ .

* * *

“Yeah, that’s me. Mindgame.”

Bill answers the scientist sitting in front of him, who’s eyes haven’t moved since he turned around.

“Can you state your Ability, for the record?” Robert asks, his voice thick and slow like sap dripping down a tree.

Bill feels a bit like a mosquito about to get stuck in it.

“Manipulation.”

The laugh that elicits from the scientist is, in a word, uncomfortable. Bill knows of the mad scientist trope, but man, this guy is really going all out with it.

“Splendid. Can you demonstrate for me?”

Bill’s mind flicks back to that other researcher, how he couldn’t get a read on them.

“Um, y-yeah, I c-c-can try,” he agrees.

He focuses his energy, which has become as easy as breathing to him by now, and tries to enter the mind of Robert Gray.

* * *

Eddie brings his hand to cover his mouth in shock as he reads the detailed papers on the death of each child.

Betty Ripsom. Cause of death: Body torn almost perfectly at the waist. Uneven lacerations suggest no use of carving or cutting tools. 

_ What was strong enough to rip somebody in half? _

Edward Corcoran. Cause of death: Severe force applied to the airways resulting in the shattering of all neck vertebrae.

_ What had enough force to choke someone so hard it nearly decapitated them? _

Matthew Clements. Cause of death: Severe injury to the face. Eyes were not present, and burn marks surrounded eye sockets. Arms dismembered before death.

_ What had the power to burn someone’s eyes out? _

Eddie closes out the files, feeling sick to his stomach, just as he had when reading the original missing reports. Maybe more so. 

Those were just three reports. There were at least ten more, maybe even fifteen...

He spends a solid five minutes trying to compose himself, trying to make it through these files because he  _ has _ to know what’s on them.

* * *

It’s like trying to enter a brick wall.

Just like the researcher, Robert Gray’s mind is impenetrable. 

The alarm must be clear on Bill’s face, but he’s met with another grin rather than concern.

“Oh, my mistake. It seems I’ve forgotten that I blocked your Ability,” Robert informs him, as if it’s something so trivial, like forgetting sugar in someone’s coffee. 

“I- I didn’t kn-n-n-n-ow you could do that,” Bill answers simply. Internally though, he’s fighting to keep his voice calm.

“We’re working to come up with new innovations every day,” the scientist replies, and again Bill gets that chilling feeling. “Speaking of, would you mind answering some personal questions?”

Bill knows it’s why he was called up here, but it seems a little more sinister now.

“Yeah, sure. Go ahead,” he allows anyway.

The grin on the scientist’s face is slow to form and ominous in nature. 

“Tell me about your brother.”

* * *

Eddie knows he can’t go back to the autopsies just yet. He doesn’t have the stomach for it.

There are a  _ lot _ of files to examine, though. Some are mundane- the building’s architectural details, payroll records, employee schedules and histories, and the like.

Well… maybe employee history wouldn’t be so odd to look into. After all, one of the physical contracts mentioned something about an exchange. The safety of the other agency’s heroes for something else.

The safety of other heroes…

Eddie audibly gasps.

“Holy shit…”

* * *

Bill screws his face up, furrowing his eyebrows for a moment as he comprehends the question.

“Georgie?” He clarifies, and Robert nods. “Um, he’s six years y-y-y-y-younger than me, lives with our parents still since he’s young. And uh, h-h-he goes to high school a few blocks away.”

There’s an uncomfortable pause in which the scientist just  _ stares _ . As Bill’s about to say something about it, he finally breaks the silence.

“Yes, yes. And, his Ability?”

Bill is hesitant at first to answer, but he figures the agency should have this all on record anyway. 

“H-h-he’s a Telepath. He can detect stuff like me, but he can’t manipulate,” Bill explains.

Again, he’s met with that disconcerting grin, one that seems a little too wide for the guy’s face. He’s unsettling in an unusual way- like something that’s supposed to be benign, like a roller coaster that’s scarier than it is fun, or somebody in costume that makes little kids cry rather than laugh. 

A scary clown, maybe.

* * *

Eddie scrolls through the employee list, not entirely sure what he’s looking for.

At least, not until he remembers something Richie told him.

_ “If I suddenly disappear, look for a guy named Robert Gray,” _

_ “Robert Gray? Is he a hero…?” _

_ “Nah, he’s this crazy scientist guy down in research.” _

Robert Gray… Robert Gray…

Eddie scrolls through the divisions until he finds the department of research, and he’s lucky that it’s organized alphabetically.

He clicks on the name, and he’s met with a comprehensive history of employment.

It all looks normal at first. A researcher who made significant contributions at other facilities, but moved to this one in order to expand his studies.

A quick Google search reveals a multitude of studies authored and co-authored by him, all in the area of Ability research- the origins, the physics, stuff like that. He’s pretty renowned in the scientific community, it seems.

Another quick Google search reveals the heroes who have gone missing.

TradeJack. Ability: Shapeshift.

Cinderblock. Ability: Strength.

Flamethrower. Ability: Burn.

A third search reveals that Doctor Robert Gray worked at each of the three agencies housing these heroes, none of which had contracts with his current one.

Eddie has to shut his computer as his mind whirs, connecting the dots. He doesn’t know  _ how _ this guy is connected to the kids, but he’s sure there’s gotta be something in his research, his offices, his lab... he knows  _ something. _

Eddie has to find out what. 

He has to break into the lab.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhhhh my apologies for taking so long with this! Grad school finals have been terrible but I promise I'm not abandoning this! I'm really excited for where the story is gonna go from here!
> 
> Reminder I make art for each chapter! For anyone curious, my [Instagram (TheFloralPeach)](https://www.instagram.com/thefloralpeach/) has visuals for Richie's uniform, Eddie's vigilante outfit, and now a hint of Bill's uniform as well!. Feel free to follow and interact, I like friendship :)  
> ALSO ALSO PLEASE CHECK OUT [THESE](https://www.instagram.com/p/B_X3-DHDaTb/) [AMAZING](https://www.instagram.com/p/B_aqjRJDMhG/) [FANARTS](https://www.instagram.com/p/B_cqa56jaj0/) BY [GHOSTY.GHOST.FORK ON INSTA!!!](https://www.instagram.com/ghosty.ghost.fork/)


	6. Doubt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Richie discovers something terrible  
> Eddie gets a new ally

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: mentioned autopsy of children

Richie takes the next day off. 

Ben gets assigned a day shift during the time Richie is out so that Beverly and Stan can team up for night patrol. It’s the safer option; plus, it allows Ben to stop by Richie’s apartment after work on the second day of his mental-break-slash-strike.

There’s reruns of some old sitcom playing on the TV as a comforting background noise while Richie spends some time contemplating life. The marathon is going strong even at 6 o’clock, when Ben shows up with some takeout.

They skip the small talk and get right to it. No use ignoring the elephant in the room.

“So,” Richie starts around a mouthful of lo mein, “What’d they say to you about it?”

Ben pokes at the general tsao’s in his plastic container, but Richie notices that he hasn’t done much more than push it around.

“They pulled me in Tuesday morning and swore me to silence. The usual ‘we’re working towards something bigger, people won’t understand, we don’t need the panic’ speech.”

Richie raises an eyebrow. “That’s it?”

Ben shakes his head in response.

“Oh, of course not. Everything was like,  _ laced _ with some sort of threat-”

“They  _ threatened you? _ ” Richie interrupts, and there’s a venom in his tone that he hadn't been expecting. Ben has to put a hand up in defense before Richie keeps going.

“No- I mean, not outright. They just mentioned stuff like, how it would be a shame to have to find a replacement for me, and stuff like that.”

Richie grumbles, but he can’t say he’s too surprised by the reaction. His concern is what the hell they were trying to cover up in the first place.

“Do the others know?” He asks, but again, Ben shakes his head.

“No, they swore me to secrecy, man. I don’t even know if they want me here with you…”

The implications of Ben’s words hang in the air for a moment. Could it be possible that the agency is tracking them, keeping tabs on them? 

He quickly shakes off the worry. Maybe it really isn’t as sinister as they’re both thinking- maybe it really is a secret and noble operation that the heroes are better off not having information on.

“They didn’t say anything about me?” He asks instead, to which Ben shrugs.

“They said they’d call you, but I don’t think they wanted to say anything else about it.”

Richie doesn’t have to say anything to know that Ben has the same thought as him- that they’re hiding something they shouldn’t be hiding. 

For what isn’t the first time this week, Richie thinks about his last encounter with Photon. Villains say shit all the time, but something about this struck differently…

_ “You don’t fucking understand what you’re protecting!” _

_... _

_ “I’m not trying to kill you, I’m trying to solve missing children's cases that your agency is covering up!”  _

Richie doesn’t tell Ben. Surely he’d just come across as crazy- after all, who listens to a villain, right? Not that Richie’s listening. He’s just…  _ curious _ .

The rest of the evening is nice, filled with mindless chatting with undertones of both boys attempting to shove their worries to the side. At the very least, it’s a distraction. Or maybe it’s just the calm before a storm.

After eating what they could, paying moderate attention to a movie, and some obligatory jabs at each other's love lives, Ben takes off for the night; and Richie is left with his thoughts. Never a good thing.

If there are actually missing children, then the agency would surely send detectives. They just hired that new girl who’s supposed to be a natural at it, too! Peggy or something, Richie couldn’t quite recall her name. Maybe she’d been there when the incident happened, when he and Ben found that young girl? Richie does have a habit of forgetting…

(Her name is actually Patty, not Peggy).

But he also has a habit of having pretty good instincts. 

The cameras are still out around the office from his fight with Photon. There’s nothing wrong with a little snooping if there’s valid reason to be suspicious, right? 

But Richie does trust the agency. He does! He does. They’ve never wronged him or anyone before besides some corner cutting on expenses, and maybe overworking the cleanup staff. But they’re good people at heart.

Richie works for good people.

He repeats this to himself several times, because it’s certainly true.

* * *

Richie returns to work the next day, and he’s faced with the same “briefing” as Ben was.

Everything takes a vaguely threatening tone, and suddenly Richie completely understands what Ben had meant. He plays the part well, pretending to be okay with everything, and showing complete trust in the agency.

“You understand what it would do to the agency if people misunderstood the situation, correct?”

“Yes, absolutely.”

But he has complete trust! He does. He just needs a little reassurance. And it won’t hurt the agency if they don’t know that.

“It would really be a shame if we had to replace you, Forcefield. You’re one of our best.”

“And I’ll continue to be.”

They’d taken a chance on Richie when they first hired him, he’d been known at the old facility to break protocol when he didn’t believe something was right. But, it almost always ended in a win, and the agency certainly liked that. But he knows at this moment that they don’t want somebody who stands up to authority.

“We don’t want you to think we’re heartless monsters either, you know. Rest assured, the agency has reasons for the situation that you and Earthquake were caught in, and you will be given details at the earliest possible moment.”

“I appreciate it. We both do, I’m sure. For real, guys, you have nothing to worry about, you know I love it here!”

And he does. He loves being a hero.

And as a hero, it’s his job to look out for the people in the city… right?

Either way, he’s met with some reassuring smiles, and is promptly freed of the Meeting From Hell.

The rest of the day is surprisingly normal. Meetings on crime rates, regular patrols, city progress reports- all things Richie’s used to doing. The weirdest thing, honestly, is seeing his teammates and not being able to tell them what’s going on. Or, at least, not yet.

Secrets from Eddie is one thing; they  _ just _ met back up, and like Mike said, it’s safer for him not to know the truth anyway. But secrets from his team, especially Stan, who he’s so used to telling everything to? It straight up sucks. 

It’s a pretty quiet day, too. None of the patrol shifts yield anything unusually dangerous or suspicious. Since Richie, and apparently also Ben, aren’t really in the mood to fight, it works out well for them.

As usual, the rest of the team and most of the office leave before he and Ben finish their patrol reports.

And, as Richie was hoping, he’s left pretty much alone in the building as it gets later. The only others present at this time are the custodial staff, and they’re thankfully not known for being nosy.

He waits for a while, procrastinating his  _ actual _ plans by doing his paperwork for once. Go figure, huh?

An hour or so after the building quiets down and the custodial staff has moved onto other floors, Richie sneaks up to the file floor. It’s still being reconstructed after his last fight with Photon, which means the cameras and security are still out. The rest of the building had been enhanced to make up for the lack of protection on this level, but as Richie had already been inside, the extra security doesn’t do much to stop him.

He still doesn’t know the contents of what exactly the villain had taken while he was here. Some physical files of god knows what and some digital files on one of the security computers left in Photon’s hands, but Richie wasn’t privy to the information on them. 

So, he better start looking around, then.

The computer is more promising than physical files, because Richie knows damn well he doesn’t have the patience for physical files. Besides, basically everything would be backed up on this computer anyway, so all he had to do was get into it. Good thing for Richie’s awesome secret hacker skills.

He laughs to himself at the thought.

He doesn’t know shit about computers.

That doesn’t stop him from saying out loud, “hacker voice, I’m in,” as he uses his hero clearance to get through, promptly gaining access to almost every file.

Technically, he’s only supposed to use hero clearance in emergencies, but he figures they won’t mind. After all, they’re never even gonna know he was here. His stealth mode is one hundred percent right now, and- fuck, there’s a noise.

Richie freezes, as if that’s gonna somehow stop him from being seen. After a few moments though, he doesn’t hear anything else. Given that the area is under construction after being pretty much destroyed, maybe it’s not so insane that there would be some creaking here and there.

He opens up their recordkeeping app, which should contain in depth reports of every incident the agency has handled. The hero reports are just a snippet of the whole thing, and Richie is rarely privy to the finished products. Normally, it wouldn’t matter- someone robbed a store, they caught the guy, problem solved, end of story. But if Richie is being dragged away from crime scenes now, he’ll be damned if he doesn’t get to know why.

There are several categories to explore, which Richie hadn't been expecting. There are minor incidents, closed cases, a myriad of titles that look more akin to police work than hero work. But, something catches his eye.

Death reports.

The title makes him pause a moment; this is heavy territory he’s getting into. Of course, sometimes it happens on the job. You can’t save everyone, right? But, that’s not what throws him off.

What throws Richie off is the fact that the latest report, according to the date on the summary line, was written less than a week ago. Neither he nor the others were on a case or involved in an incident which ended in any deaths, and they hadn't been in  _ months _ . So, what the fuck is this about, then?

From there, it only gets worse. 

Out of curiosity, he clicks on the folder, scrolling through the files. He doesn’t recognize any names in the summaries, and when he goes to click on one, the incident report doesn’t ring a bell either.

In fact, the reports don’t seem to have  _ any _ hero elements in them- meaning, they hadn't been handled by anyone on the team.

And then, he realizes the cases are all kids- all under fifteen.

“ _ I’m trying to solve missing children's cases that your agency is covering up!” _

Richie scrolls through the most recent case, his hand flying to his mouth as he reads the details.

Esther Sinclair.

Ten years old, body found in the sewers beneath the downtown streets, limbs… oh, god. Richie has to fight the twisting in his guts as he reads the next sentence.

_ Limbs torn from body. _

He skips over the autopsy report, because he doesn’t think he can handle the details. The next part is the witness report, which details an interview with the girl’s sister.

An interview in which she insisted that something took Esther.

And Richie recognizes the picture attached, he recognizes the girl he and Ben tried to comfort.

Interestingly enough, it doesn’t specify that the girl was screaming about a clown… maybe they didn’t think it important enough to report, but Richie figured that’s the  _ first _ thing they’d take note of.

Despite the knowledge of the young girl’s death, the official report is that she’s missing. What’s most sickening, however, is the document attached to the end of the report: a fucking nondisclosure form, signed by Sinclair’s family.

Despite the sick feeling in Richie’s stomach, he checks the next five reports on the list.

They’re all children. They all started as missing persons reports. They were all handled by the agency’s detectives.

None of them mention the clown thing, but they all end in gruesome death. 

And they all have the same nondisclosure form to keep the families quiet.

“Holy shit…” Richie whispers to himself as he lets his eyes scan the pages again.

This is stuff he hears in conspiracy theories, in comic books, in the National Enquirer. There’s no way that it’s actually  _ real _ ; that his agency, the one that educated him, housed him, trained him, and gave him a career- there’s no way they would do this. 

They wouldn’t do this. Some villain planted the information here- that Photon guy probably did this when he was here last.

Except, logically, he knows Photon hadn't been here since the most recent incident. And, he’d seen the agency detectives take over a case  _ on the fucking scene _ with his own eyes.

So this is real.

_ Fuck _ , this is real.

Richie exhales a shaky breath as he pushes his chair out from the computer desk, letting the wheels carry him a few feet across the floor.

But, he doesn’t have a lot of time to process much, as a sudden  _ crash _ breaks him from his thoughts.

Apparently that extra security didn’t do much after all.

* * *

Eddie lays low for Wednesday and most of Thursday, splitting his time between work and messaging Richie.

After the shit he read, he can’t help but be wary of Richie’s sudden reclusivity- maybe he really was sick, but Eddie can’t shake the thought that whatever is going on at that agency might be affecting him somehow.

Luckily he has off of work on Friday, so Thursday night is his chance to get into the building and figure out what the hell is going on at this agency.

Security had surely been increased since his last visit, almost a week ago. His best bet is to get in through the same floor he wrecked last time, unless they’d fixed it up already.

Lucky for Eddie, they hadn't. Damn, how cheap is this company that they can’t get a security increase on a building that’s been repeatedly attacked?

There’s a pathetically weak structure holding together the window he’d broken before, and it doesn’t take much to break through it again. He tries to be as quiet as possible, but… well, breaking things isn’t really a quiet activity. 

If he counters opposition though, he’s prepared. With his fucking luck, he’ll probably run into Forcefield again, or maybe one of the other heroes will be on duty tonight. Or maybe he’ll get to face off against some higher-level agents, and he could ask some questions.

The lights are on in the main area of the floor; Eddie clenches his hands into fists, a dim light emanating from his palms, just in case. He’s prepared for a fight, for a struggle, for anyone he meets around the corner. Or, so he thinks.

What Eddie  _ doesn’t _ expect is to see Richie at the very same computer that he’d stolen information from.

Richie, alone on a broken floor, looking frighteningly pale as he catches sight of Eddie- or, what he probably thinks is some villain coming to kill him.

Eddie was prepared for a lot of scenarios. He was  _ not _ prepared for this.

“Stay the  _ fuck _ back, I can have a hero here any moment now!” Richie yells, scrambling to his feet. 

Eddie can feel his heart break. Richie should  _ never _ be scared of him, that’s the last thing he’s ever wanted.

In response, Eddie puts his hands up in defense.

“I’m not here to hurt you,” he says calmly, standing still in his place. 

There’s a few beats of silence where he tries to figure out what to say next, how to reassure Richie that he’s safe when he’s sure this agency has spread the word about him.

“I… I know,” Richie replies, and his whole demeanor seems to shift. He loses his tense posture.

And then, a whole new slew of worries got through Eddie’s head.

_ Shit, he knows it’s me. Fuck. He figured it out. He figured it out and he’s never gonna forgive me, I’m attacking his fucking agency he’s never gonna forgive me- _

“You’re that vigilante, Photon. Right?”

Oh thank god.

Eddie nods his head slowly, and he shouldn’t feel as relieved as he does when he’s called a vigilante rather than a villain.

“And- and, you’re after information on the missing kids.”

It’s not a question, which makes Eddie wonder how the  _ fuck _ Richie could know that. It makes sense, though. Richie hadn't gone to work in a few days, he must have found out somehow.

Again, Eddie nods his head.

He can’t quite place the expression on Richie’s face. A fleeting grin without any humor in it, eyes downcast, and his face paler than usual as his gaze flicks up to the computer monitor.

“I um, I heard you were stealing files. I mean, that’s why I know who you are,” Richie explains. “And…” Again, an expression that Eddie can’t quite gauge flashes across Richie’s face as he chuckles grimly. “I guess I just found out why.”

Eddie waits a few moments before he says anything back.

“They’re hiding this from  _ everyone _ ,” he finally responds, chancing a step forward. “There’s a lot of layers to this that you don’t- that nobody knows about. I  _ swear _ , I’m not here to hurt anyone-”

“So why, then? Huh? What are you here for?”

Eddie pauses as Richie snaps. Though, he gets the feeling that the attitude isn’t directed at him.

“The lab. I need to see what’s happening in the lab,” Eddie admits.

Richie bites his lip then, and Eddie hates that he has to swallow the thought of how damn good he looks doing it.

“The fifth floor.”

Eddie’s eyes widen at the information. Or, it could be a trap. Eddie wouldn’t blame him if the fifth floor was actually where all the heroes are.

“There are more security cameras on that floor though, so be careful,” he continues.

Eddie stares for a moment, dumbfounded.

Part of him wants to ask why Richie’s helping him, but he thinks better of it.

“Thanks,” Eddie responds, his voice soft and a little bit awestruck. He takes a few steps towards the stairwell door, but pauses, turning once again to face Richie. “Stay away from there. And avoid Robert Gray at all costs… okay?”

If Richie knew Eddie was behind the mask, surely there are many witty responses he could have picked from. But instead, Eddie’s met with one simple reply.

“Yeah. Okay.”

He turns again to the door, but hears Richie’s voice once more.

“Stay safe, man.”

Richie nods to him like it’s the easiest, most normal thing in the world, though his face shows some clear turmoil. Eddie can’t blame him.

“You too.”

With that, Eddie opens the door, and escapes down the stairwell.

* * *

It’s ten stories down to the Research lab.

Eddie’s careful once he arrives. He doesn’t know much about the layout of this floor, though he’s pretty sure the employees have gone home. He just needs to find the office and get the research of Robert Gray, then leave. 

This floor is set up a bit differently than the others he’s been to. There’s a large main room, similar to the office floor, and several offshoot ones. When he peaks through the doors, what lies on the other side of a few look like waiting rooms, with other rooms beyond them. As he walks along, he sees some doors labelled as specific employee offices, and a handful of small labs, but he knows that’s not what he’s looking for.

The type of operation Robert Gray is doing wouldn’t be in a tiny, unguarded lab.

Strangely enough, though, Eddie can’t find a door with his name on it. Surely someone who was considered the agency’s prized scientist would want the perks that come with it, right? There must be something back towards the main area that he missed. 

He’s about to go check when he hears something coming from one of the waiting-room-ish-things.

In less than a second, he’s crouching on the ground outside the door, hoping nobody continues beyond it. Thankfully, after a minute or so, nothing happens.

Cautiously, Eddie peaks through the window, and catches a glimpse of someone as they enter through an inner door.

It was only a glimpse, but he knows who it is.

He  _ needs  _ to see what Robert Gray is doing.

Once the door shuts, and everything is quiet for a minute or so, Eddie secures his hoodie tightly over him and slides into the main area of the room.

It’s definitely structured to be a waiting room of some sort. Waiting for  _ what _ , though, is the question; there’s no front desk or anything that could give any clues. So, Eddie sticks close to the walls, staying low as he sneaks towards the door.

This one doesn’t have a window, so he has to be particularly careful. After another few minutes of distinct silence from the other side, Eddie nudges it open as carefully as possible and slides into the other side.

It’s a hallway, much like a doctor’s office; there are two doors, one on each side, and a set of double doors at the end of the hall. Eddie’s willing to bet those double doors are exactly where he needs to go. Still, to avoid a nasty surprise, he listens at the other two doors for a short time, just to make sure he has it right.

A flicker of light at the end of the hall confirms his suspicions.

Keeping light on his feet and as quiet as possible, he moves towards the doors, and sneaks through them as quickly as he can.

On the other side, he’s expecting a lab like ones he’d seen in sci-fi movies and cartoons, an evil lair with test tubes and giant machines. As far as he can see, though, it looks pretty normal. There are many desks around the space, each one with an array of papers on it. There are a handful of large machines, but they’re dull in appearance- no bubbling chambers, no glowing lights, no big red button. 

Slowly, Eddie creeps forward, and catches sight of the scientist entering what looks to be some sort of testing room for… something. There are clear glass walls, but the interior looks surprisingly bare.

The far end of the chamber has some sort of structure on the wall, or, maybe another machine? The scientist walks towards it, pressing something that Eddie assumes must be a button. 

A machine then, for sure.

It looks like he’s talking into it, but Eddie can’t read his lips, and he’s not close enough to hear. If it’s a research log, it could contain valuable information… so, Eddie inches closer, eyes transfixed on the scene in front of him. Once he’s at the desk, he pauses, taking cover under it as he tries to make out what sounds  _ much _ more like a conversation than a log.

“No amount of begging will get you your Ability back. Boy, all you heroes really are so silly!”

His voice carries a disturbing tone. It’s light, but clearly dangerous beneath the surface.

Eddie wonders who he’s talking to.

The other side of the conversation is muffled, so Eddie can’t hear much of it. But honestly, it doesn’t sound good.

“What  _ I _ need to know is how it  _ works _ , dear one,” the scientist drawls, sending a shiver up Eddie’s spine.

He connects the dots rather quickly. 

Robert Gray obviously has had something to do with the hero disappearances happening lately, that’s something Eddie already knows. And most likely, he’s talking to one right now… or, some other unfortunate person with an Ability who had somehow fallen into his grasp.

“Staying quiet won’t help either, you see.”

A press of a button later, and Eddie can hear a very clear, agonizing  _ shriek  _ on the other end.

Oh god, what the  _ fuck _ had he walked into…

“Yours is one of my favorites, you know,” Robert Gray continues, and his voice drips like poison. “ _ Deadlights _ . What a  _ powerful _ name, for an equally powerful Ability.”

Deadlights… Eddie knew he’d heard that name somewhere. That was definitely a hero in there. But, not from this agency. 

It clicks a second after- Shellshock. That’s the name he goes by. His Ability is truly forceful, akin to Mindgame’s manipulation, except it captures the opponent in a sort of trance.

The other three who went missing have powerful Abilities as well… Shapeshift, Strength, Burning… What did Robert Gray want with that power? 

Eddie feels his breaths quicken, both in fear and in horror as he watches the scientist place his hands through the machine, screams filling the air not even a second later.

Unable to watch, he sinks down completely onto the floor, his gaze focused on the steel of the desk.

So he was stealing heroes and  _ torturing _ them for something, then?

Eddie almost can’t handle it, he almost books it out then and there, but suddenly the screaming stops.

Cautiously, he brings his head up above the desk, just enough to get a glimpse at what’s happening.

There are no words to describe the absolute horror he feels when he sees Robert Gray, his eyes and mouth alight, testing out Shellshock’s Ability: Deadlights.

And then the scientist looks  _ right _ in Eddie’s direction.

_ Fuck. _

He’d only wanted information on what Robert Gray was doing, research notes or something. He hadn't expected to find any of this; hell, he didn’t  _ want _ to find any of this, and there’s a strong possibility that Eddie won’t win if this guy decides he wants a fight.

Robert Gray just stole an Ability. Robert Gray probably stole the other three missing hero’s Abilities. Eddie wouldn’t stand a chance against somebody with  _ four fucking Abilities _ . And, if he decides Eddie’s Ability is worth taking, too?

Eddie shudders away from the thought as he quickly disappears behind the desk, hoping he’s out of view.

He hears the chamber door open, and immediately scans the area to see how he can escape.

“Who’s there?”

Robert Gray’s voice calls out, and Eddie doesn’t think he’s ever been quieter in his life. After a moment, he hears the door close again, and the scientist resumes conversation with the kidnapped hero on the other side of the chamber.

Eddie takes the opportunity without a second thought, and makes a break for the door.

He avoids the desks, staying low, and shoves through the double doors with much less care than he’d entered them with. He doesn’t hear anyone following him, so he should be able to slip through the waiting room doors and back to the stairwell-

And then there’s a blast of  _ something _ right next to his fucking head.

So he runs, past the waiting room and out to the main floor, all the while hearing what he’s sure is fire from Flamethrower’s Ability hitting  _ way  _ too close for comfort. __

Eddie is honestly not sure how it all misses him, but he doesn’t feel any pain as he runs. Once the fire stops, he ducks behind a wall out in the main office space, panting as he leans against it.

There are no footsteps behind him, thank god. So, he takes a second to make sure he’s not hit- and he’s not. But…

A familiar indigo haze shimmers around him. He only notices for a moment before it disappears, but he knows exactly what it is.

_ Forcefield _ .

He must be here for a fight, Robert must have called him in, but… why did the field disappear, then? If he could have Eddie surrounded in something impenetrable, why let go?

Finally, Eddie sees him, in the shadows by the stairwell door. They make eye contact, but the hero doesn’t move to battle. Instead, Forcefield points across the room, to another exit.

Their eyes stay locked for a few moments until Eddie breaks, his gaze shifting to find the other door that he could easily escape to.

By the time he looks back, the other hero is gone, and Eddie is left wondering what the  _ fuck _ just happened there as he escapes through the back.

* * *

It’s two days later, a Saturday, when Eddie talks to Richie again. Well, it’s only on the phone, but it counts, he thinks.

Of course, he’d sent a text to check up on him once he’d gotten home. He was met with a reply the next day saying things have been insane at work, but he’s fine otherwise.

Insane. That’s one word for it. Downright  _ evil _ is another, and now that Richie knows about everything, Eddie knows he’s in danger.

There are a handful of ways he plans to make sure Richie is safe:

  1. He will get over his pointless anxiety over talking to him. Weird childhood crush be damned, Richie’s safety comes first.
  2. Eddie will talk to him more regularly.
  3. He will invest in a heat-resistant uniform, and wear it just in case.



The third part makes him feel stupid. He already has a hoodie that works fine; but, if things get more heated- no pun intended- he can’t be wearing it all the time. Professional heroes wear specialized body suits with various gear attached; they’re light, easy to wear, and most importantly, easy to conceal.

If Superman can wear a costume underneath his regular clothes, then so can Eddie.

(The Superman idea makes him feel less silly about wearing what is, at its core, a onesie, under his clothes).

So he visits the residence of a man named Adrian Mellon, who crafted his hoodie about two years prior. Adrian, an aspiring designer and notorious freedom-fighter, is well known among underground justice communities- or, as the cops call them, vigilantes. His Ability is Hyperfocus, which allows him to complete large projects in a short amount of time, which is very useful for his profession.

Eddie’s saved up enough over the past few months to get a suit made. Adrian’s prices don’t run cheap, and Eddie doesn’t blame him; technically, the work he’s doing is illegal, so he well deserves the compensation.

Richie calls while Eddie is in Adrian’s “lobby” (it’s his living room), and Adrian works out a sketch design in the back.

“Richie!” Eddie greets much too enthusiastically, picking up the phone after only one ring, because he doesn’t know how to calm down ever.

“Hiya Eds!” He answers with pretty matched energy, thank god. “Sorry it’s been a while, it’s been busy at work. Someone’s gotta file away all the lawsuits, right?”

He’s joking, but Eddie knows just how much truth is probably behind it. Is that what they’re making Richie do? Is that the type of paperwork he’s forced to handle?

“Yeah, legal trouble is so very funny.”

“Oh, don’t get worked up. It’s fine. Mostly… anyways! How have you been, Spaghetti man? Haven't seen you in millenia!”

Eddie tries not to be too flattered that a week without him is considered, even jokingly, a millenia in Richie's eyes. But, he also doesn’t miss the subject change. He’d press, but maybe Richie’s being silenced as well.

“I’m fine-” Eddie answers, but quickly moves on. He really is fine, his concern is Richie. “Last I heard, you were sick though. You feelin’ better then, Rich?”

“Oh, oh yeah! Totally.” Richie’s voice is chipper, which isn’t necessarily uncharacteristic, but a little odd for someone who was just sick. He’s always been the type to bounce back, though. “Must’ve been one of those stupid 24-hour things. The bastard decided to stay 36 hours instead. They should face a criminal charge for that, I think."

Eddie laughs. “You're gonna call heroes on the common cold?"

"I think someone should! For too long it's been getting away with such treachery, the vile beast." Richie slips into a dramatic British-esque accent. The -esque is because it doesn’t sound very British at all.

"As long as you're feeling better now. I was thinkin' about. I dunno. Bringing you soup or something while you were sick." There's a pause from the other end that lasts just a moment too long, so Eddie continues. "Sounds pretty stupid though now, I guess-"

"No!" Richie interrupts mid-sentence. "No, 's not stupid. My spaghetti cares about me, I'm honored! You may as well have just blessed me with your sword and called me your knight."

"You're really feeling the theatrics today, I see."

"Well, what am I if not dramatic?"

Eddie smiles fondly.

"You would've made a good actor- wait, no! Comedian!" He laughs at the thought. "Richie Tozier on stage. Could you imagine?"

He feels bad about it as soon as it's out. For all Eddie knows, that  _ is _ along the lines of what Richie wanted, but he was sucked into this brain-washing agency of horror. He only has a moment to worry, though; as always, Richie fills the silence.

"My darling,  _ everywhere _ I go is Richie Tozier on stage. Did you not get the memo?" Richie responds confidently, making Eddie laugh. "The world is my audience, I'm just choosin' the role! Today it's paper filer, tomorrow I'll probably be a space cowboy."

"Good choice,” Eddie responds through the chuckle in his voice.

"Thank you, I knew you'd support me Eduardo."

Eddie can visualize Richie with a hand over his heart right now.

"Can I be your space sidekick, then? I'll fix your ship as we float through space."

"You got yourself a deal!"

Eddie can hear the smile through Richie's voice. That's always his favorite, always has been- his smile, so big and doofy and full of honest joy that you don't even have to see it to know it's there.

There's something in the background then that Eddie can't quite make out, some sort of commotion. Not too surprising, given where he works.

"Oh- hold on a second Eds," Richie says, and it sounds like he's holding the phone away from him.

Again, Eddie can't quite make out what anyone is saying. A moment later- though the background noise hasn't stopped- Richie brings the phone back to him. 

"Eds, I gotta call you back.” Before Eddie can protest, or ask what’s going on, Richie continues. “Everything's okay just urgent work stuff- I'll talk to you later buddy!"

Richie hangs up before Eddie can say goodbye.

Maybe it works out for the best though, because Adrian pops out just a few seconds later squealing in delight as he holds out a spiffy little design for Eddie to look over

* * *

“What do you mean  _ missing _ ?!” Richie asks as soon as he hangs up the phone.

He’s in the break room in between patrols when Bill runs in, Mike trailing behind him (as always).

“It’s G-G-G-Georgie, he went to school today and he- he n-n-n-never- he’s fucking  _ missing _ -”

His stutter combined with the dampness of his cheeks must make it near impossible for him to talk. Mike has a reassuring hold on his arm, though, and fills Richie in with a more steady voice.

“Georgie never came home from school today, and he’s not picking up the phone. Parents called the school, but they haven’t seen him since he left.”

Oh. That’s bad.

Richie wants so badly to say that Georgie’s fine, that he probably stopped at the comic book store on the way home- but it had been hours. And, Georgie isn’t the type of kid to do that, just drop off the face of the planet without telling anyone where he’s going.

“Did- did you call- it’s gonna be okay, Bill, did you call his friends?” Richie asks, fighting to keep his voice calm.

Mike looks at Bill for an answer as well, though both men are met with a head nod rather than words.

That means none of his close friends had seen him either.

Mike and Bill don’t know how bad this is, but  _ Richie _ does. Mike and Bill don’t know there are kids going missing. Mike and Bill don’t know that these kids are being murdered.

Richie’s suit is on him in the blink of an eye with an easy press of his bracelet, and he’s already scrambling to clasp his belt on top of it.

“Come on, we’re gonna find him.” Richie looks up at Mike, both of their expressions tinged with fearful eyes. “Radio Stan, he’ll give us eyes in the air, and I’ll get Ben to help move some structures around,” he instructs, thinking fast as he prepares for what could be a very unsettling search. 

Mike is muttering absentminded reassurance as he and Bill prepare their own suits.

“You know, headquarters isn’t gonna like that we left for patrol without being commanded to,” he brings up.

“Headquarters can suck my ass, the paperwork can fuckin’ wait.” Richie has no concern for what HQ thinks of him right now. After what he found out the other night, after realizing some of the shit they’ve been up to, they should fear Richie if anything.

Mike nods in understanding, ushering Bill out the door.

“Don’t worry Bill, we’re gonna find him. Georgie’s fine,” Richie assures as they gear up.

He wishes more than anything that he believed his own words.

He wishes that he didn’t know, without a shadow of a doubt, that Georgie  _ isn’t _ fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry it took me so long to finally get this out! I wanted it out about two weeks ago, but I struggled through finals week and handling my dog passing away in that time span, so writing hasn't been easy. I will finish this story if it's the death of me though, and the chapters to come are my favorites!
> 
> Also, reminded that I make art for each new chapter! I've also drawn visuals for each Loser's hero uniform in case anyone's curious. These can be found on my [Instagram (TheFloralPeach)](https://www.instagram.com/thefloralpeach/)  
> Thanks to everyone who's left such kind comments! I appreciate it so so much, and you're what inspires me to keep going!


	7. Confrontation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eddie almost makes a big mistake  
> Richie's glad he does

In between Thursday and Monday, Eddie sneaks into two more agencies.

He needed to see if there was any more information he could get from them, anything Robert Gray could have left behind, or any evidence of Ability transfer. Or… stealing. Or whatever he was doing.

Unfortunately, the other agencies had a whole lot of nothing. There had been more security than at Richie’s agency, which meant Eddie had to be quick, but the files were seemingly wiped of everything having to do with Robert Gray. The only thing he could find even remotely related to the guy were the dates he worked there.

Part of him hadn't been surprised, but he’d also really been hoping to find something deeper. 

What he  _ does _ get, however, is a chance to test out his new gear, which is nice. Adrian is an absolute genius. And, Eddie owes him probably a million favors now.

What he  _ paid _ for is a strong and flexible heat-resistant suit that he could wear under his clothes. What he  _ got _ was a strong and flexible heat-resistant suit that appeared with the press of a button from a bracelet- technology normally privy only to heroes. He has no idea  _ how _ Adrian got his hands on that shit, or why he wanted to test it on Eddie of all people, but he’d been beyond grateful. He tipped the designer as well as he could.

He still has to wear his mask, though. Heroes get fancy little eye masks, but Adrian didn’t have enough fabric for it. So, normal face cover it is. It’s better than nothing, at least.

With nothing from the other agencies, he has to go back to his original investigation. Which means another trip to Forcefield’s agency… and perhaps another run-in with him. 

Eddie couldn’t get that moment out of his mind; from the knowledge that he probably only narrowly escaped death, to the knowledge that the reason for that is a hero that Eddie had been in numerous battles with. That night frequents his thoughts.

Forcefield is someone he’d previously considered to be somewhat of an enemy, someone to be wary of, to avoid. So… why did he save Eddie? What the hell changed?

That’s one reason he has to visit the agency again tonight, on top of maybe snooping a little more. He knows he needs to be more careful now, though; a dangerous villain, the extent of who's knowledge and power remains unknown, will almost certainly be looking out for him. Fun.

Work provides a distraction throughout the day, at least, so Eddie doesn’t have much time to worry about the many possibilities of his next visit going horribly wrong before he actually makes it to the agency. He arrives a little earlier than normal, because this time he’s hoping to run into someone, not avoid them.

The windows on the information floor still aren’t completely fixed- which, while convenient for him, really makes him question the integrity of this place. Isn’t Ben supposed to have something to do with building reinforcements or something? Maybe they’d been taking extra care to keep him in the dark, too.

Eddie takes more care in entering this time, even though he assumes the scientist he should be avoiding is likely on the research floor about ten stories down. And, the person he’s looking for should be just one floor below, beyond the walls and smaller office rooms, probably at a computer.

And there he is. 

It’s a wonder that he doesn’t hear the door open, but he probably doesn’t expect a visitor. So, Eddie clears his throat, and  _ that _ gets his attention. The hero Forcefield whirls around in his chair before hopping up, obviously prepared for a fight.

Eddie puts his hands up in response, but before he can say anything, he’s enveloped in a shimmering indigo bubble.

Oh. He doesn’t recognize him.

“Who the fuck do you think you are, coming in here at fucking-”

“Woah, woah,” Eddie interrupts. “‘S just me! It- uh, Photon,” he clarifies. 

The hero looks skeptical, so Eddie emanates a small, harmless amount of energy from his hands, allowing them to glow softly.

The field around him drops as the hero relaxes his hands, his eyes widening in what Eddie assumes to be confusion.

“What the fuck- what are you doing here?” He asks, voice low as if trying to avoid being heard. That’s… not a good sign.

“There’s still more to find out-” Eddie begins explaining, but he’s cut off, and he’s not fond of the borderline fearful expression he can see even through Forcefield’s mask.

“No- listen to me, you need to get out of here. I don’t know what the hell you found but you pissed off a lot of people.”

“How did you know I was looking for something?”

Eddie’s not entirely sure why he asks, but he’s found it weird that Forcefield even knew to help, knew where he’d be, knew anything of this… 

The hero sputters for a moment before taking a resigned breath. 

“There’s uh, there’s a guy who works here who told me what’s going on. He said he saw you the other night when all that shit went down.”

_ Richie _ .

“Oh.” Eddie owes his fucking life to Richie. “Thanks for believing him.”

There’s a beat of silence where it seems neither of them know what to say.

“Anyways, digging the new look but you need to get the hell out of here, man, I don’t even know how the fuck you got in here with security so tight-”

“What?” Eddie interrupts. “I literally like, walked through the fucking window upstairs. Your security sucks.”

The nonplussed expression on the hero’s face is something vaguely familiar, but Eddie doesn’t have time to think about it.

“Eh, sounds about right,” he mumbles. “Whatever. I know they’re looking for you man you need to get out of here, don’t you have all the information or whatever that you need? Can’t you go to the police or something already?”

Honestly, Eddie hadn't thought too much about his next step… he’d wanted to figure out how high up this went, maybe figure out a little more about Robert Gray’s experiments, and… then what? He certainly has enough criminizing evidence already, but how would he even know who to go to? Unless…

Unless he’d been overlooking a crucial source of information.

He’d overlooked what the heroes may or may not know, too.

“No- I need to know how far up this goes. Other agencies were silenced on everything somehow, this guy needs to have serious connections. Do you know anything?”

Forcefield sighs, though it morphs into a groan.

“You’re persistent, god fucking- okay. Uh, agency detectives stopped me and Earthquake from investigating something, and HQ withheld info about the hero disappearances from us, so I don’t know man. This shit goes pretty far.”

“Well-”

He’s cut off then as he hears something coming from the other side of the floor, and Forcefield starts pushing him to the stairwell on the other side.

“You need to go,  _ now _ -”

“Listen, we can’t solve this with just the police! We need- we need heroes-”

Forcefield keeps pushing, even through the clear shock on his face.

“I- we can’t do this right now-”

A door on the other side of the floor opens, thankfully out of sight, and the hero shoots a field at the stairwell door in response. He forms another field quickly, and the force of it pushes Eddie through.

The next few minutes go by in the blink of an eye, as Forcefield uses some sort of special access to get Eddie back onto the floor he entered from.

“I don’t know how you get in and out of here but you need to do it,  _ now. _ ”

It’s not worth arguing. If someone who can steal Abilities is after him, then he could always catch up with the hero later. 

The field around Eddie finally disappears once they’re out of the stairwell, and his eyes are drawn to the still-broken window that he entered through. But, there’s one more thing he has to do before he leaves.

“I just, I came here to say thank you.”

Again, there’s a familiarly incredulous expression on the hero’s face for a moment, underneath the obvious fear he has over getting caught.

“No problem you fucking turd, now get out!”

Eddie rolls his eyes; yeah, this guy knowing Richie isn’t surprising at all.

After making his way to the window, he hops out, quickly activating his Ability to Iron Man his way to the ground. Around the nearest corner, after making sure no one’s around, he deactivates his uniform and stuffs his mask into his pocket.

It’s nice, being able to switch so quickly from Photon back to Eddie. 

-

-

Photon is barely out the window- how he survives that shit, Richie has no idea- when a security agent enters the room.

Richie turns towards him as confidently as he can manage.

“I thought I heard something up here. Must’ve been a bird hitting the window or something,” he lies. He’s gotten pretty good at making shit up to tell them, from innocent excuses to… well, this.

The agent doesn’t look completely convinced, but giving heroes the benefit of the doubt is kind of an expectation here. Well, for the most part. 

“We’ll conduct a sweep of this and the surrounding floors,” the agent says, void of any emotion.

Is it a requirement to look and act like a Men In Black reject if you work as an agent here? Richie might find the guy intimidating if he didn’t also seem so ridiculous. 

“Sure thing. I’ll secure the perimeter of the building,” Richie adds, his voice a well-done mimic of the agent’s too-serious monotone.

As he’s left alone again in the room, Richie genuinely considers hopping out the window like Photon did. He  _ could _ do it, just use his fields as really cool stairs…

Or he could take the elevator down, like a normal person.

…

He jogs to the window and jumps, a field forming under his feet almost immediately to break his fall.

It’s exhilarating as  _ fuck _ to be about fifteen stories up in the city’s night air, the whole fucking world beneath you. It’s less exhilarating to realize that you now have to both make and climb down fifteen stories worth of stairs.

It’s more dangerous, but he decides to just move the one field he’s on instead. Like an elevator, but with the added risk of possibly falling to his death. 

He doesn’t though. Instead, he lands safely on the ground, and looks around to try and find Photon before any agents do, or worse- Robert Gray. It seems he doesn’t have to worry about that though, because he doesn’t see anyone around at all.

“Photon?” Richie whispers urgently, as if the guy will pop out of the shadows. It only takes him a second to realize how dumb of an idea that is. Sighing, he turns away from the building to continue his search-

But he runs into someone else instead, earning a soft ‘oof’ in response.

“Shit, my bad, are you-”

The finishing ‘okay’ rests on Richie’s tongue as he comes face to face with Eddie, his unfair fucking doe eyes wide in surprise.

What the fuck-

“I’m fine, thanks for asking,” he finishes anyway, not missing a beat. 

“You- it’s uh, late. It’s not safe to be walking all alone at night.”

Eddie rolls his eyes, and Richie doesn’t blame him. That’s such a stereotypical Hero thing to say, and it’s not like Eddie particularly likes heroes in the first place.

“I’ll live. I’m actually here to meet someone, so… I’ll get going now.”

_ What the fuck? _

Eddie starts to walk away towards the building’s entrance, but now Richie is intrigued.

“I can tell them to come down, if you want. You know, there’s not many people here this time of night.”

And that was the truth, unless Eddie secretly knows any of the agents or has some double life Richie doesn’t know about. And wouldn’t that just be the icing on the cake of this week.

“It’s uh, a guy named Richie, I know he stays late. I should’ve texted or called him first anyway, ‘s no big deal. Thanks though, hero.”

Eddie walks away quickly, and the whirlwind in Richie’s head is crazier than the air current from Stan’s wings. Richie would be dumber than anyone ever told him he was if he really thought Eddie wouldn’t find out, connect some dots somehow.

More importantly, though, why did Eddie want to see him?

Now there’s yet another thing weighing on Richie’s mind that he can’t tell Eddie. This week fucking sucks.

As he ‘clears the perimeter’, finishes up his daily report, heads home, goes to sleep, Richie’s wondering why Eddie was there and what he wanted. He hadn't figured out Richie’s identity as Forcefield, or else he would have confronted him right away; Eddie was like that. So then, what was it?

Almost as soon as he arrives to work the next day, he’s pulling Ben aside to talk to him about it, explaining the general situation. And, leaving out the details about Photon, of course.

“He was just, outside the building?” Ben asks to clarify, his expression looking about as confused as Richie feels.

“Yes! I don’t know how the fuck he was planning on getting inside, and I have no idea what he wanted because he ended up just leaving, and it’s not like he messaged me or anything-”

“Did you message  _ him _ ?”

Richie blanches, staring at Ben like he’d just suggested he eat a worm or something. Which, honestly, Richie had done before anyway, so that metaphor sucks.

“Uh, no? Why the fuck would I message him? I’m not supposed to know about it, he told  _ Forcefield _ , not me!”

Ben, in a rare case, rolls his eyes.

“He told you,  _ as Forcefield _ , that he was looking for Richie. Is it so unbelievable that Forcefield might have told you someone was looking for you?”

He suddenly feels lucky he went to Ben rather than Stan. “That’s not totally impossible, maybe…”

Ben smiles with a kind understanding in his expression. Bless him.

After the daily briefing, while Richie waits for his turn on patrol, he decides he’s gonna call. The curiosity is killing him too much to just leave it alone. And as he heads to the break room, Eddie seems to have the same idea. Richie picks up the phone as he walks through the door.

“Eddie Spaghetti, speak of the devil!”

He hears a pleasant little laugh from the other end, and thinks it would be nice to hear that sound more. All the time, ideally.

“Hey, Rich.” Richie waits for more for a moment, but there’s nothing. Part of him thinks it would be nice if Eddie just called for no reason, just to chat, just to hear his voice.

Ben is right. He has it  _ bad _ .

“To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Last time we called you had to go, and you never called back, so… I guess I’m just checking in?”

Oh, fuck. Richie completely forgot about that, wrapped up in the search for Georgie. It had been about four days, and they’d gotten no closer to finding him. Bill had taken each day off to look for him, Mike joining when he could, but there had been no luck.

The agency pretended to help, but Richie knows they’re more than likely the reason for his disappearance in the first place.

Another secret.

“I was actually just about to call you, you sure your Ability isn’t mind-reading or something?”

“Beep beep, dumbass.”

They both laugh.

“Anyways uh, I was here late last night and one of the heroes came up to tell me that you were outside looking for me?”

Eddie pauses, and for a moment Richie thinks the call dropped.

“O-oh, I didn’t, I didn’t know you knew about that,” he stammers. Now Richie  _ needs _ to know what’s going on. “I just, I stopped by to uh... how did you know it was me?”

Oh,  _ fuck _ . Forcefield didn’t know Eddie’s name.

Richie thanks the powers that be for his improv abilities.

“Well, he said someone was lookin’ for me, and I only talk to you and the Losers. When he said abnormally short I would’ve assumed Bill, but he was here too so I knew it had to be my Spagheds!”

“Oh my god, fuck you asshole!”

Again, he laughs, and again, Richie feels his chest tighten with giddiness. He can almost forget that his mistake nearly cost him his secret identity.

“Anyways, we covered  _ my _ end, now it’s your turn. What did you need Eds? Everything okay? Can’t say I’m not curious to know why you stopped by.”

The curiosity could quite literally  _ kill  _ him right now. His heart could beat right out of his chest, landing on the floor with a gross flop that the custodian who already hates him would have to clean up.

Or maybe he’s dramatic, but his heart rate is definitely higher than normal.

“I…” Eddie begins, but pauses again. Richie’s butterflies start to turn less innocent, more anxious, but then it’s like a flip switches; Eddie seems to gather the courage he needed to keep going. 

“This is embarrassing, I wanted to be in person for this but, um… do you wanna maybe, grab dinner with me some time?” He pauses again, and so does Richie’s ability to function. “Like, on a date?”

-

-

Eddie doesn’t know what the  _ fuck _ he was thinking.

He panicked. He’d been sure that Richie figured it out, because it’s not like  _ that  _ whole situation was suspicious or anything. Some vigilante shows up, leaps out a window, then suddenly Eddie is there? Richie had to know, he had to have connected the dots somehow. Or he’d been planning on asking, investigating, or… something. 

So Eddie needed an excuse. And evidently,  _ that’s _ the only thing he could think of. It was less scary to ask Richie out than it was to have his identity revealed.

And now, even scarier than either option, is waiting for Richie’s response.

Because he really just did that. He really just  _ asked Richie out. _

And it’s not like he didn’t want to! It’s not like he hadn't been wondering how Richie would react if he ever gathered enough courage to ask, if Richie maybe felt the same, or if he’d at least be willing to try. Or how he'd look in person, maybe he'd smile that doofy grin that Eddie loves, or maybe he'd blush, or make a stupid joke. In Eddie's fantasies, that conversation ends with a kiss... but, this isn’t how Eddie imagined it happening.

And Richie still hasn’t responded.

“Uh… Rich?” Eddie prods. He's proud of his voice for not shaking.

"Ah- sorry Eds." Oh god, this is it. Rejection. Of course it's rejection, why would Eddie think any differently- "I had to wait a second to make sure I wasn't dreaming."

Richie’s voice shakes a little, and at first Eddie thinks it’s because he’s holding in laughter. 

“So…?” He prods again, ready for the hit, for Richie to lose it and successfully put the final nail in the coffin of Eddie’s love life. 

But he doesn’t.

“Uh, yeah! Yes!” He answers instead. That shakiness is still there, but Eddie realizes it’s not from laughter, from mockery; it’s from excitement. “Hell yes! Just, forgive me if I’m caught off guard here man, I didn’t think you… yeah.”

Eddie, confused, scrunches up his face, even though Richie can’t see him. “Didn’t think I was gay?”

“No, I fucking knew  _ that _ , you turd. I didn’t think you were gay for uh, for  _ me _ .”

Maybe being in person for this conversation wouldn’t have been terrible. Maybe that would be better than Eddie blushing to himself, smiling at no one as his heart threatens to beat right out of his chest.

“Well. I am.”

“Yeah, I got that.” God, he can  _ hear _ the smile in Richie’s voice. 

"You're uh. You're at work right now, aren't you?" Eddie asks. He already knows the answer, but he wants to see Richie too badly to risk being wrong.

On the other end of the line, Richie sighs. "Yeah, I'll probably be here all day. Fuck, I would've called in sick if I'd known."

"They’re seriously gonna fire you, dumbass," Eddie responds lovingly. "Maybe, you can be sick tomorrow?"

There's a silence where Eddie knows they're both grinning.

"It's a date, Eds!"

He doesn't want to hang up after that. Richie doesn't either, but apparently his break ends not too long after their conversation does. After the phone is away from his ear, Eddie takes a moment to actually think about what just happened and let it process.

He… actually just asked Richie out. And, crazier than that, Richie said  _ yes _ .

-

-

The bubble bursts once Richie hangs up, his palpable excitement releasing into every space he's in. He rushes out back onto the floor, shamelessly running to find Ben.

"BEN! BEN HOLY FUCK!"

He races past a few others on the way- Beverly, looking amused, and Stan, looking completely unphased.

"BEN YOU BEAUTIFUL MOTHERFUCKER WHERE ARE YOU?! I HAVE NEWS GOD DAMMIT!"

He finds Ben outside the bathrooms, rambles  _ very _ loudly, and somewhat incoherently, about it all, and feels like he’s going to vibrate out of his skin the entire time.

The rest of the day, in between patrols, is filled with him bothering literally everyone he passes. 

“Hey Bev- guess who I have a date with?!”

“Staniel! Did you know some casanova on our team has a date?”

“Mike, don’t you have a date with Eddie soon? Oh wait, that’s me!”

(He’s met equally with patient smiles and deadpanned expressions that tell him he’s lucky they tolerate him).

(He thanks Mike and Ben for being the former).

He’s messaging Eddie throughout the day, too. Enough that he gets scolded once or twice by the team supervisors- oops. But he doesn’t care. It’s hard to have any room in his mind for that when he knows Eddie, the guy he hasn’t stopped thinking about for a solid decade, has enough feelings for him that he wanted to try a date.

For once, it’s before midnight when Richie finally gets off work. He texts Eddie before he even enters his place, and doesn’t stop until he collapses onto his bed. And, even then, that’s only so he can call Eddie instead.

They set up a date for Friday night, a simple dinner at a place that Eddie insists remain a surprise. Such a gentleman is he.

Richie assumes Eddie would normally go to bed around midnight or so, but they talk well past that point. It takes Richie about ten minutes into the call, and a lot of courage, to bring up a question he’d had on his mind for almost the whole day.

“So…” he starts, using the opportunity from a beat of silence after the laughter from a bad joke dies down. “Can I ask how long you’ve been waiting to ask me on a date?”

It’s disgustingly honest. But maybe, with Eddie, that’s not so bad.

Eddie hums in response, as if thinking, before answering. “No, you may not.”

“Oh, come onnnnn!” Richie whines. “I have a right to know, don’t I?”

“You have no rights. Stan took your rights away, remember?”

Richie thinks back to a dumb story he told about a week ago in which Stan said just that, and he loves that Eddie remembers those little things.

“Okay, well Ben gave them back to me. Now I have the right to know about how I was able to artfully seduce you.”

“You did  _ not _ seduce me, asshole-”

“Okay, okay! I’ll back off. I was just curious, tha’s all.” 

Richie’s very aware that he has a tendency to scare people away. Any time he’s tried to date- which hasn’t been much- it’s always ended that way. He’s too much for them, or, conversely, due to his fun secret life as a hero, he’s  _ not enough _ for them. 

It’s dawning on him during this conversation that any of these things could scare Eddie away, too.

As he feels the anxiety bubbling in his chest, and is about to make some dumb excuse for why he has to go, Eddie finally answers.

“I’ve wanted to ask you out pretty much since we met again.”

Richie’s silent, waiting with bated breaths for Eddie to continue. Is it possible for someone to hear another person’s heartbeat through the phone?

“Really?” He asks, cringing at the softness of his own voice.

“Uh… yeah. Uh,” Eddie sounds like he’s going to say more, but… “Yeah.” He doesn’t.

“Well, don’t let my vulnerability affect your response here Spaghetti, but I’ve kinda wanted to ask the same since we met up again too,” Richie admits.

“Really?” Eddie asks, and his voice is so  _ soft _ , so  _ incredulous _ that it almost hurts.

“Hey, that was my line!” Richie jokes, because his Vulnerability Limit for the day has been reached.

“I didn’t know you- I thought. I don’t know.”

“Well obviously I feel the same you little turd, or I wouldn’t have said yes.”

“Thanks for saying yes. That would’ve been embarrassing.”

“Oh what, you coming to my job at fucking midnight to ask me out?” He teases.

Because that’s their language- teasing, bickering, joking, so much that it’s hard to be serious sometimes. But, at the same time, it’s perfectly serious for them. Honest, despite the jokes. And Eddie has always understood this language… Maybe that’s why Richie never worked well dating anyone else.

"Shut up, I can take it back you know!" Eddie teases back, and Richie knew he would.

They chat, bicker, tease,  _ exist _ with each other until Richie hears soft breathing in place of Eddie's sharp wit.

He keeps the phone on for a few moments, even knowing Eddie is asleep. And, in that time, he falls in love a little bit.

-

-

Somehow, the week goes by both all too fast and slow as a fucking glacier. 

The times where Richie's talking to Eddie are the best- and, subsequently, those are the times that fly by the fastest. When he's sitting through meetings and stuck doing paperwork, the time inches by, slow and not so steady. 

He's just as insufferable with the others. Beverly and Ben live for it though, one being quite the gossip at heart and the other being a sucker for romantics. The rest of them should count their blessings that Ben is Richie's patrol partner. Stan would probably have killed him in cold blood by Friday.

_ Friday. Date night. _

Richie already has the day off, as well as Saturday, but he puts in an official request just to be sure they don't try to call him in.

He sleeps much longer than he should, but beauty sleep sounds like something Eddie would advocate for, anyway. He showers, even taking time to wash his hair, which personally he thinks should be met with thunderous applause. A clean shave, some old cologne that a relative gave him like two years ago, and a vigorous tooth brushing later, and he's ready to go.

Well, after choosing a wonderfully hideous button-up and casual blazer to wear. The button-up is one of his  _ less _ hideous ones, in his defense, and the muted colors and floral pattern mean that hopefully, Eddie might even like it.

For what may be the first time in Richie's life, he's not late.

He's just shrugging his jacket on when he gets the message from Eddie to meet him downstairs. And, when he does, he thinks his heart stops for a moment. 

Eddie’s wearing a white button-down, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, which is such a  _ weird _ thing to find attractive but Richie does anyway. It’s tucked into some  _ beautifully _ well-fitted pants, and Richie thanks whatever powers that be for allowing them to find their way into Eddie’s wardrobe.

It’s just a simple, nice shirt-and-pants combo, but it looks so fucking good on him that Richie thinks he falls in love a little more. 

He's pretty fucking shameless in the way he looks Eddie up and down. The barely-there blush on his face that Richie's met with in response does nothing to curb him, either.

"You clean up nice, Spaghetti Head."

He ruffles Eddie's hair with a fond smile on his face, only for Eddie to shrink away.

"You shitstain! I spent like half an hour getting it perfect!"

And somehow, that's so perfectly  _ Eddie _ that Richie’s heart swells. The feeling doesn't go away, even as they start to walk, even as Eddie rambles away about his now ruined perfect-messy-hair look.

The restaurant they end up at is a little nicer than anything Richie would’ve picked, and he’s glad he chose the ugly button-up rather than an ugly graphic tee. As soon as he sees it’s an Italian place, his inner joke monologue goes haywire.

“Spaghetti taking me out to eat spaghetti… is that cannibalism or cheating?” He quips as they near the entrance.

Eddie rolls his eyes, but not without a grin on his face.

“I was waiting to see what joke you’d pull there,” he says, tone amused before shifting gears a bit. “Is this uh, is this okay?” 

Eddie nods towards the restaurant, and Richie is offended that he even felt the need to ask. 

“You could take me to an on-fire garbage can and it would be okay with me, Eds,” Richie assures. There’s a vulnerability, an honesty in his voice despite his stupid words and Eddie’s resulting laugh.

As they head in, Richie notices something a little strange out of the corner of his eye- probably just a trained caution as a result of his career. It’s just a guy standing by the corner, he’s not doing anything wrong, but he looks… almost familiar? Richie pauses for a split second, and notices an odd look in the man’s eyes.

Sometimes, peoples’ Abilities affect their appearance. He shouldn’t judge so quickly, the guy might not be able to help it.

Besides, Richie’s not on duty tonight anyway. This night is for  _ him _ and  _ Eddie _ only, and everything else could wait. 

Being a semi-fancy restaurant in a semi-fancy building, the two are led to a table on a higher floor with a view of the city at night. Granted, the city at night is often filled with gangs and drug deals, but the lights are aesthetically pleasing.

But in all honesty, nothing, no view or fancy food, compares to the company he has.

_ Eddie _ . Right across from him, with a bashful grin despite his words as sharp as ever. 

It’s not like they’ve never gone out together before. They’d gotten coffee, gotten lunch, shared dinners; but this is different. This is, without a question, with clear language and clear intent, a  _ date _ .

“Okay, so be real with me, how much would you actually hate me if I ordered spaghetti?” Richie pokes around a mouthful of bread.

“Not as much as I hate you for talking with your mouth full. Jeez, asshole, didn’t you go to preschool? Isn’t that like, the first thing they teach you?”

“No, I think the first thing they teach you is not to bite people. If it helps, I ignore that one too.”

Eddie bursts into laughter.

“God, you’d make a shitty hero. Imagine you out there chomping on every supervillain’s arm.”

Richie knows it’s a joke. And it’s funny, too! It is. But it hits close enough to home that his laughter in response is more of an awkward chuckle as he’s reminded of the half of his life he hides from Eddie.

“Are you kidding? That sounds like the best strategy to me!” He continues joking anyway.

He can tell Eddie’s gonna fire something back before he hears someone scream.

Richie's heart stops.

The commotion comes from the stairs, drawing both his and Eddie's attention. Several other tables look towards the noise as well, and a few of the wait staff have nervous expressions. 

Remembering he's next to a window, Richie peaks out to see if he can tell what might be going on below. Besides people running in the opposite direction, he can't see much… but it doesn't sound good. After only a moment, he doesn't see anyone running anymore, which is even worse. That means that in response to whatever threat is out there, the building had taken lockdown protocols.

This is something he would normally respond to on a call. This is something he very well might get called in to fix.

People start shuffling towards the stairwell, joining panicked crowds running upwards.

Buildings often house strong safety rooms up high, since villains tend to attack from below- people would be surprised how many of them use the front fucking door. However, the roof is also considered one of the safest places, because heroes like Phoenix and Forcefield could help.

That's Stan and Richie.

He doesn't know where Stan is, but Forcefield won't be able to lend much of a helping hand at the moment.

But he’ll be expected to.

People will wonder where he is.

_ Eddie _ might wonder where he is.

Richie looks back from the window, watching as neighboring tables are ushered up and towards the stairwell. Maybe he could sneak away, go to the bathroom and change speedily-

But Eddie grabs his hand.

“Come on, we need to get somewhere safe.”

There's worry in his eyes, but his voice is calm and steady.  _ Brave _ , Richie thinks. He's always been  _ brave _ . 

Dumbstruck, Richie just nods, following as Eddie leads him towards the stairwell, into the crowds of people all hoping that his alter ego will save them.

_He's_ _fucked._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god this took so long, apologies!  
> Between commissions and school and everything it's been a lot. I cut this chapter short because the reddie interactions ended up taking up a lot of space, so this chapter got really dialogue heavy. I hope that's ok!
> 
> Once again feel free to come chat with me on insta or tumblr or any platform you find me, haha :)


	8. Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Richie tries to think fast  
> Eddie thinks faster

The safety room fills up quickly. Eddie had known it would.

The staff and designated building security are still shuffling people inside, but Eddie surges forward, heading straight to the roof because he  _ knows _ that’s the safest place. If anything happens inside the building, there’s no way out of that room.

Regardless of how secure it is inside, Eddie would rather have a way out if things get worse. And, knowing his luck, things would get worse. Thankfully, Richie follows.

Part of him gets caught thinking that maybe it would be over soon. Maybe it’s just a drill, or a villain whose bark is worse than their bite. He lets himself indulge for just a moment as he runs that maybe, just maybe, it’ll all go back to normal in a few minutes and he could go back to dinner.

His  _ date _ .

But of course something like this would happen. He finally gets a chance to go out as  _ Eddie _ , not Photon, and he has to face this shit. He finally gets a chance to be  _ happy  _ as Eddie.

He hates the part of him that thinks for a moment that this is his fate, that it’s always going to be hero and villain business and that he was just being stupid when he thought hey, maybe he could date someone! Or, even  _ more _ stupid when he thought hey, maybe he could date  _ Richie _ . Or maybe he could do anything without hero or villain business, but fucking of  _ course _ it would worm its way into his night. 

Fantastic.

And it’s not like he can just hop into action and leave Richie scared and betrayed- for all he probably knows, Photon is a villain to him. The last thing Eddie wants is for Richie to feel scared around him, or worse, scared  _ of _ him.

Richie’s safety is first priority as Eddie drags them both up the stairs. He’s out of breath, so is Richie, but they keep running for it despite heaving chests and burning lungs. If they can make it up to the rooftop, someone could help- a hero could help. Forcefield, for instance, could help; he would be perfect in this situation and Eddie knows he works night shifts.

It feels like forever by the time they finally reach the night air, the only sound their mixed panting and muffled shouts from below.

“I don’t know what the hell is going on down there,” Eddie gasps, his hands resting on his knees. “I think we’re safer up here. Heroes will come by any second, I know it.”

Richie looks unsure. So Eddie keeps talking in his place. 

“I- I mean, your agency is close by right? I’m sure they’re already on their way.” He means for his tone to sound sure, but it doesn’t. It’s shaky and punctuated by deep breaths thanks to running up a solid ten floors. 

And, honestly? He’s  _ not _ sure. With all the shady business he knows is happening, with how high up this shit goes, he’s not sure about anything.

Richie doesn’t respond, but his gaze flicks beyond the building.

Eddie wishes he could protect him. 

But he’s no hero.

* * *

Technically, Eddie’s right.

_ Some _ hero would come by. But, ideally, the first line of offense for this fight would be the closest agency- which is his own. The first line of defense would be the night shift. Forcefield.  _ Richie _ . Along with Stan, they could carry everyone to safety. 

But Forcefield isn’t at the agency. He’s supposed to be on a fucking date with the little spitfire who stole his heart.

So, what does he do? What can he do?

He can look over the side and try to see what’s going on; but he does  _ not _ like what he sees.

“Holy fucking shit,” Richie whispers as he leans over the edge.

That guy from earlier, the one with the weird eyes. Him, and three more, are in a complete fucking frenzy trying to get inside. There’s officers taping off the area- or, at least, trying to, because the actual fucking flames down below must be making it pretty difficult.

Flames. But, those aren’t Bev’s flames. These are chaotic, destructive,  _ blue _ , and- coming from some guy’s fucking mouth.

Projectiles, too. Richie can’t see exactly what- some rocks, debris, various other hazards. They fly around, nearly hitting anyone who dares approach them. 

It doesn’t seem random, though. The objects change direction, they change speed, they shift. It’s almost like they’re being controlled-

Oh,  _ fuck _ .

An image pops into Richie’s head; a memory of frantically holding his backpack in front of him and hoping it would shield him, Bill and Ben at his side as he waited for something to fly and hit him.

“Eds, you are  _ not _ gonna believe this…” He utters, thinking Eddie isn’t too far away from him- but, he’s wrong.

Eddie is some ten feet away, closer to the door they exited from than to Richie. He’s pacing around, eyes glued to the floor and clearly nervous.

_ Fuck- he’s not supposed to be nervous, or scared- Richie’s supposed to protect him.  _

Suddenly, he’s glad Eddie couldn’t hear him. He doesn’t need to know that, of all people, it’s their childhood bullies attacking the building below them. Well, at least two of them- he recognizes Bowers’ Ability and Hockstetter’s weird reptilian eyes. But given his luck, he’d be willing to bet that Vic and Belch are the other two wreaking havoc.

Richie double takes- a glance to the ground, then back to Eddie, then back to the ground. Could he get away with using his Ability, getting Eddie to safety as Forcefield and then reappearing as Richie? Oh, how convenient, Forcefield saved you then fucked off while you weren’t looking to save me really really fast! Wow!

No- he promptly realizes how stupid of a thought that is, because Eddie would start to question where the hell Forcefield went. That wouldn’t end well for anyone.

_ Think _ .

Pacing starts to sound pretty appealing right about then. He runs a hand through his hair- then again, and once more, ready to burst with nervous energy; standing still has never been easy for him.

And then, he realizes he’s leaving Eddie alone with his own anxieties, probably scared to death because he always had a tendency to overthink things- is it the same now? Richie wonders as he crosses the rooftop if Eddie still worries like he used to.

Eddie’s head is down, eyes pointed to the ground, but it’s clear his attention is set somewhere in his own mind. He’s not shaking, his eyes aren’t wide with fear, he doesn’t look like the typical victim of an attack- but Richie knows his mind is buzzing on the inside. They’ve always been on a special wavelength like that, knowing to some extent what’s going on without needing words.

He puts his hands on Eddie’s shoulders- but Eddie jumps.

He’s not supposed to be scared. He’s not supposed to be scared with Richie…

“Hey, hey,” Richie murmurs, and Eddie settles into the touch.

“Hey. Sorry, I just- why did this have to happen tonight?”

There’s a hint of a groan in his voice, and a clear tinge of annoyance as he speaks. Richie decides it’s better than fear.

He pulls Eddie close, not thinking twice about it.

“I know. It sucks.” 

Eddie leans into the embrace as Richie rests his head on his. For a moment, it’s nice; for a moment he can forget that they actually might be in danger.

It has to have been at least ten minutes since the attack began; his agency should have dispersed heroes by now, or some other agency if his own hadn't responded. 

He tries not to let his mind wander too much about what that means.

* * *

The way Eddie sees it, there are three ways that the night could play out from here.

1- The heroes could arrive, likely within the next minute or so. They’d head to the roof first, evacuate him and Richie and anyone else who will have made it up by then. Ideal scenario, but the hope for it drains with every passing second.

2- The heroes don’t come. They’re late, or… maybe they just don’t arrive at all for some reason. He and Richie wait out the chaos up here until the villains below decide to try entering from above- they’d be easy targets then. Could he protect Richie if that happened?

3- Eddie does something. He could have his suit on in a matter of seconds, he could face the attackers head on. If one has any sort of flammable Ability, Eddie attacking might as well create a powder keg- bad for the top of the building, but not as much if he draws them away from below...

That option is the scariest.

The scenarios are all ‘what-ifs’ anyway, but logically  _ one _ of them has to happen, and two of them end badly. Either they die, they’re both injured- or, worse, only Richie is. Or Richie gets injured  _ and also _ never talks to Eddie again because he’s a fucking vigilante, or villain, or whatever that fucking agency labelled him as.

His head rests against Richie’s chest, and he can  _ hear _ just how rapid his heartbeat is. 

He’s scared. 

_ Shit _ .

And there’s still no sign of heroes, nothing in the distance signaling their arrival. Eddie wishes he was surprised, but he’s just disappointed.

Maybe he could get himself and Richie to safety without revealing anything, say his Ability is something else… but he knows that wouldn’t work. Richie’s too smart for that to work. He’d connect the dots in seconds.

Eddie’s lost in this internal debate, and he can physically feel the strain of it as a tightness in his chest. He wants to find comfort in being close to Richie, but he’s just  _ nervous _ and  _ scared _ that he won’t be able to do anything, and-

Suddenly, something shakes the building.

Richie holds onto him tighter, and Eddie subconsciously does the same as he’s snapped back to the unfortunate reality of the situation.

“What the fuck-” Richie mutters after the floor beneath them finally stills. Surely, both of them are thinking  _ that can’t have been good. _

Eddie glances towards the edge of the rooftop, as if that would give him any answers. There’s another rumble down below instead, only raising more questions and worries and fears and-

Richie’s hands return to Eddie’s shoulders as he pulls back.

“I’ll go check what’s happening.”

He’s gone before Eddie can reach a hand out to stop him, to keep him  _ close _ and keep him  _ safe _ . 

As he watches Richie inch closer and closer to danger, it becomes clear which option to choose; Eddie knows what he has to do.

He reaches into his pocket for his mask.

* * *

Richie doesn’t have a choice.

He braces his hands on the ledge of the building, leaning over just enough to see what’s going on.

On the ground, officers are working hard to keep crowds away in the 50ft radius protocol- it doesn’t seem to be going well. Civilians see smoke and decide they need to go near it immediately. It just makes everyone’s job harder.

More flames- the smoke rises up towards the roof. He no longer sees anything flying around, but he notices debris on the ground beside the building’s entrance. Two chilling thoughts enter his mind at the same time as he gazes down below.

One, that they’d entered the building.

Two, that they’d been  _ very _ adamant about getting in.

The latter fact, as much as Richie wants to deny it, could very well mean that they knew he was there somehow. Did they want to put him in this position? Fuck, how did they even remember him? Did they find him because they remembered his Ability?

That one makes the most sense. Ten fucking years later and they  _ still _ have a bone to pick with him, huh?

Fuck.

He doesn’t even know if that’s the case, but now the uncertainty is in his mind. 

And the fucking  _ Bowers Gang  _ is in the building, or at least attacking it,  _ most likely _ to get to him.

And, wouldn't they just have a fucking field day if they find Eddie here too?

His mind races to think of a way to get out of there, or at the very least get  _ Eddie _ out of there, and he wants to scream in frustration.

Then he hears it; a voice from behind him, too serious, too emotional for comfort.

“I’m so,  _ so _ sorry Richie.”

“Eds-” He responds, without thinking, because what does Eddie have to be sorry for? 

There’s a flash of light then, but not from below him, not from beyond the building. It’s from behind him.

He turns to face Eddie, to ask what the fuck is wrong, but it’s not Eddie he’s met with.

Or, no, it  _ is _ .

Richie stills, his breath caught in his throat as Eddie stands in Photon's suit, securing the familiar mask over his face.

He wants to say something, but no words come out. And before he can try, Photon- er, Eddie?- runs towards him.

His eyes glow bright, hands clenched into fists, and a dim light surrounds his whole body as he leaps onto the ledge and  _ jumps _ .

…

_ Holy. _

_ Fuck. _

For a moment, everything is still. 

Richie’s eyes scan the rooftop, part of him expecting to find Eddie hiding somewhere, cowering down- and  _ that’s _ why Richie can’t see him anymore, right?

But he can’t shake what he knows he saw. That, and he also knows Eddie isn’t the cowering type. He’d always been the bravest of them. 

With a shaky breath, Richie turns around, his arms braced against the building’s ledge. It takes a lot of effort to move from there, but he has to.  _ He has to see. _

He peers over the edge, down to the ground. He’s not sure what he expects.

It’s a fucking light show down there.

Between the flames and the blasts, Richie can barely tell what’s going on; but he can tell it’s absolute fucking chaos- even more so than before. Even from atop the roof, he can  _ hear _ the impact of each strike.

He catches a glimpse through the smoke of the figures below. Four on one. Photon’s blasts are strong, Richie knows that, but he’s struggling to keep four villains at bay.

Photon. An ally. The guy who’s fighting to expose the wrongdoings in his agency, and possibly in others. Someone trying to do the right thing.

_ Eddie _ .

That’s Eddie down there.

The force of that realization is enough to make Richie press the button on his bracelet, his uniform spreading from it and replacing his formal wear. 

Other heroes haven’t shown up. It’s just one man, handling this alone. What kind of hero would Richie be to just leave the situation like that?

Photon- no,  _ Eddie _ \- is down there fighting.

Richie doesn’t let himself overthink it for another second, wasting precious time. Instead, he jumps, an indigo platform of his own creation appearing beneath him to guide him down. It forms into a protective bubble as he reaches the ground, landing beside Eddie.

_ Eddie _ .

In a swift motion, Richie sends his field outwards, pushing all four opponents back as Eddie seems to realize who’s beside him.

“God, it’s about fucking time!” Oh… he doesn’t know. “Did you bring the others with you? Someone needs to go to the fucking roof, my- someone I care about is-”

“Aw Eds, you care about me?”

Richie's not sure exactly what compels him to be so casual. Maybe it's just the easiest thing to do.

He keeps a field around them as he watches Eddie’s expression change- brows furrowed in confusion before his eyes go wide, his gaze flicking up towards the roof and back down. He’s connecting the dots.

“I- you’re-” He begins, but is cut off by something hitting the barrier around them.

“Yeah. I’m. And you’re. We can talk about it after,” Richie turns to face the absolute monstrosity of a person trying to destroy the field, letting that finish his sentence.

Eddie catches on quickly, his hands quickly raising to an offensive position with a menacing glow. 

As soon as the field is down, Eddie aims towards Richie, sending a particularly strong-looking blast of energy behind him. The resulting grunt tells him Eddie fended off an attack; his focus was on Richie over anything else.

Richie’s never been more positive that he loves this man.

Not a second later, some stray debris comes flying their way- only to be stopped by a quickly-formed defense field. Bowers charges them soon after, but the indigo shield holds strong against his reckless punching.

“Is that-?” Eddie asks, though his question is cut short as he sends a blast towards Hockstetter.

(Of course the fucker can breathe fire now.)

“Bowers’ gang? Oh yeah.”

Richie captures Vic and Bowers in a field before sending it backwards, as far away as he can manage in about a second before he lets it dissipate. Eddie covers his back during the move, sending Belch on his ass careening into another building.

“Why the fuck are they here?” Eddie yells.

It’s a good fucking question. On one hand, it could very well be coincidence- the group has a history of causing problems on purpose for no reason. But, Richie has a sinking feeling that he knows exactly what brought them here. He hates that his previous theory is most likely correct. Sometimes it sucks being right.

“I'm thinking they found me somehow!" Richie yells as he throws a field above him for defense. Simultaneously, he hurls another one behind Eddie to block a piece of debris.

Eddie's a little busy holding off Hockstetter, the energy he produces holding off the others' flames, but he still manages to yell back.

"What the fuck?! How?" 

Richie wishes he knew the answer for sure, but he only had a guess. “I have a theory but I don’t think now is the time for speculation, good sir!”

“The British Guy? Really? Now?” Eddie pauses his attack to glare, and Richie gives an innocent grin in return as he flings a shield past him.

Vic manages to scuttle towards them, in a manner  _ way _ too spider-like for comfort.  _ Nasty _ . Richie’s never been more thankful for the fact that his fields can envelop a person. One villain: down.

He turns back around at the same time Eddie does, and-

_ Fuck _ .

They must have missed Bowers approaching them, because suddenly he’s right there, right in front of Eddie, gripping his wrist even as his hand glows with a menacing light.

Richie’s heart stops, and for a moment he’s frozen. 

He’s about to yell that he’s there, maybe even fucking out his identity to any onlookers just for the chance that he’d stop what’s happening. 

If he knows Richie is there, maybe he could focus attacks on him so Eddie could escape.

But, as Richie worries about it, Bowers comes face to face with Eddie.

“Seems I finally found you, Photon.” 

... _ What? _

The look in his eyes is blank, inhuman, almost like… Almost like what Bill’s Ability does to people.

“Don’t think I’m letting you get away with what you saw, you sneaking little pest,” he growls.

For a moment, Eddie’s expression is a mixture between confused and horrified. He pauses too, as Bowers’ grin twists maliciously into something unsettling and… strangely familiar.

Richie goes to shoot a field at the same time Eddie blasts his opponent away, sending Bowers into a building on the other side of the street. With the power he used to break that hold, Richie wouldn’t be surprised if he’d broken Bowers’ wrist too.

Serves him fucking right.

With him taken out for a moment, Richie can focus enough to envelop the other two in shimmering bubbles made of his force as well. With Bowers though, he’s not sure if it would even work; the man could still control anything he’d already had prepared from inside the field.

Backup finally arrives before he can worry too much about it. After, what, half an hour? Forty minutes? Richie's not sure exactly how long it's been, but certainly  _ way _ longer than what protocol plans for.

It's supposed to be five minutes,  _ tops _ .

Stan and a few others from the agency rush in, along with some officers for backup on the ground. 

“Thank fucking christ, me and-” Richie cuts himself off, remembering the others don’t know… well, anything. He turns around to meet Eddie.

But he’s not there.

* * *

Eddie flees as soon as he notices the sound of wings. His suit is off as soon as he’s far away and in a remote location, just to be safe. Leaning against a wall near his apartment building, he lets himself catch his breath, and lets his mind catch up.

He feels like  _ absolute shit _ for leaving Richie to do the cleanup.

This night was supposed to be dreamlike- a view of the city, a nice meal, he’d take Richie home at the end of the night, maybe hold his hand…

But no. 

Plus, now he has to wonder, who the  _ fuck _ sent those guys? He has to wonder who’s after him, how they knew where he was going to be, and what he saw that prompted-

_ Wait. _

That night at the agency- if somebody saw Forcefield protect him, if  _ Robert Gray _ saw Forcefield protect him, and if that somebody knew who Forcefield  _ really _ is, then…

And that’s another thing! Who Forcefield  _ really _ is! What the fuck! He’s- Forcefield is- 

Eddie runs his hands through his hair, almost compulsively.

He’d finally gotten his life into somewhat of a rhythm. That rhythm, in and of itself, even involved unpredictability! That had been the beauty of it! Eddie finally let himself learn to deal with not knowing what’s coming next, with handling new situations as they came.

But this?  _ This _ ? This is a new type of unexpected. This is an earth-shattering type of unexpected.

He’s figured before that his friends would be a pleasant constant in the neverending spontaneity of his life.

Apparently not.

Can he consider himself mad, though? On one hand, Richie’s a fucking  _ hero _ , but on the other… isn’t Forcefield on his side now? How much had Richie not been privy to? How much information had been kept from him?

The thoughts whir chaotically in his head when he hears a familiar voice call to him-

“Hey, Eds-”

The greeting is cut off by a startled gasp as Eddie all but jumps out of his skin. Which is weird- he’s not usually the jumpy type. Maybe after the whirlwind of a day he’s had though, he’s allowed to be.

Eddie’s heart rate calms down after a moment as he realizes it’s Richie, who offers an apology for the sudden scare- but, then, it promptly raises again for the same reason. There’s a million things he wants to say, and a million more that he probably should say, but he doesn’t manage any of them. 

“Hey,” he answers simply instead.

For a few moments, things are silent. Richie takes a spot beside him, leaning against the wall. 

“So, uh. That’s some crazy shit, huh?”

Eddie doesn’t know why he thought Richie might not say anything about the whole situation. Richie is, after all, quite incapable of  _ not _ saying things. It’s always been something Eddie loved about him.

It’s such a casual way to bring it up, though, that Eddie finds himself huffing a laugh.

“Tell me about it.”

A few more beats of silence.

“I never pegged you for a vigilante type. That Ability is fucking  _ wild _ ,” Richie continues.

It’s almost too casual. But, then again, maybe a lot of things with him are like that. He’s always had a blunt nature- not in a rude way, but in an open way where nothing is too serious. In a sense, it’s pretty comforting.

“And I never pegged you for the hero type. Since when did you start shacking it up with the government?” 

Okay, that was a little ruder than he’d meant it to be. Richie doesn’t seem to take offense, though. Instead, he barks out a laugh.

“Since they gave me a place to live and some training. In my defense, I didn’t know about the crazy bullshit until like… a week ago.” He doesn’t have to explain for Eddie to know exactly what incident he meant. “I always thought this agency was like, family.”

The tone shifts to something a little more somber as Eddie responds.

“I’m sorry, Rich…” 

That’s all he can really offer; he  _ knows _ Richie isn’t complicit in any of this, and he’s just as enraged about everything as Eddie is.

Richie shakes his head, huffing a sad little laugh.

“I just. I don’t even know how to begin fixing this. Do I tell the others? Do I like, report it? Do I-”

“What others?” Eddie cuts him off, and feels bad for a second for latching onto  _ that _ of all things

Richie simply blinks a few times, clearly taken aback.

“Oh. Okay, I guess I might as- hoo boy.” He reaches up, scratching the back of his neck. “The uh, the Losers. They’re…” Richie pauses and quickly glances around before continuing. “They’re like me.”

Oh.

Eddie’s mouth hangs open.

“All- all of them?”

“Yeah.”

…

“Holy shit.”

Maybe his reaction should’ve been more dramatic. But honestly? After this night, Eddie doesn’t have it in him.

“We were all taken at the same time. Same place, same facility, so… yeah.”

Eddie honestly doesn’t even need the explanation, but it makes sense. And it explains why he hadn't seen them for ten years, and why they were all together when he finally found them. After a few more beats of silence, he breaks his eye contact with the ground to meet Richie’s eyes instead.

“You wanna come in?”

He’s met with the dramatic reaction he himself had been lacking- wide eyes blinking and lips sputtering. It’s actually pretty sweet…

“I- wha-?”

“I think whoever sent those guys knows who you are,” he explains, hoping Richie catches on. “So. It’s safer.” 

He looks like he understands, but… his face falls.

“Also… I’d like it if you came in,” Eddie adds, both because it’s true, and because Richie’s expression lifts right back up. 

It is true. Eddie hasn’t had someone over in… years, actually. Adrian came over once for a consultation, they ended up talking for a bit, but that was it. Since then? Nobody. And he hadn't cared. 

Tonight, he really wants Richie to come inside.

And he does.

They talk a little more about things; nothing too serious, since they’re both pretty drained. They check the news, make sure the building is okay (it is), make sure the people are safe (they are), and make sure the gang is locked up- that last one is a maybe. With all the shit going on, along with the probable connections to Robert Gray, it’s unlikely. 

It’s also because of Robert Gray knowing Richie’s identity, Eddie explains, that Richie’s likely safer there than at his own place. Although, neither of them can figure out how he could’ve known that Photon would show up where Richie was…

It’s a conversation for tomorrow, when they’re not exhausted- both physically and emotionally.

At the very least, it’s nice that they can still be like this; that they can talk, be casual, be  _ normal _ with each other. It’s nice that knowing their identities doesn’t really change anything.

They both rest on the couch, but closer than they maybe should. They always had tested the boundaries of normal, but Eddie’s pretty sure that resting his head on Richie’s shoulder while they talk about their pasts breaks a few rules. 

Plus, the fact that they had technically just gotten back from a date isn’t helping anything. 

Eddie falling asleep at Richie’s side  _ definitely _ breaks some rules.

He decides, as he drifts off, that he doesn’t care.

* * *

When Ben comes into work the next day, the first thing he notices is how tired everyone is. They’d all been called in to handle the situation last night, and they aren’t all as used to handling night shifts as him. They also don’t have the luxury of working later in the day, though.

The second thing he notices is that Bill is nowhere to be found.

The only way he can describe the mood in the building is… eerie. Usually it’s bustling with activity, from the interns rushing around to deliver paperwork, to the agents organizing and dispelling information, to his team, patrolling or training, or just being a lively bunch in general. But today, besides the rustle of files and the tacking of computer keys, there’s next to nothing.

He doesn’t get the chance to meet up with the others until he catches a glimpse of the news on the T.V. playing on the main floor.

It’s Stan and Bev, presumably catching up before their next shift, as well as some agents muttering to each other. 

Ben doesn’t know why he’s cautious as he walks up to two of his best friends at first; but, as he catches the horrified expression on her face, he understands his gut feeling. Both her eyes and Stan’s are glued to the screen, not even acknowledging that someone else had arrived.

Ben follows their gazes with morbid curiosity, but his heart sinks as he reads the caption scrolling across the bottom of the screen.

_ Missing Child George Denbrough Found Dead:Murdered Last Night By Villain Called “Photon” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took me so long to finish this! I started a new job a week ago and also finished my grad semester at about the same time, and I'll be going into another grad semester this week so ahhh I'll be really busy  
> BUT  
> This fic is my love child and I'll be damned if I don't finish it so rest assured, it WILL happen! But updates may take longer for the rest of it, sorry!
> 
> AND AS ALWAYS!!! Please feel free to hop onto my tumblr or insta if you wanna chat with me! I love hearing what you all think!


	9. Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Richie's in trouble.  
> Eddie knows.

Richie only has one day off after the attack before he has to return to work.

He spends that day with Eddie, and it’s- well, it’s great. A little more vulnerable than he normally lets himself be, what with the whole ‘Explaining Why I’m A Hero And Never Told You’ thing; but, still nice. Richie knew from the beginning that he would always hate keeping secrets from Eddie, and he did. He hated every second he had to hide from him, and he loves every second that he no longer has to.

He doesn’t hear the news until he goes into work.

It’s  _ rough _ .

First, he’s bombarded with questions from various security personnel and investigative teams- including that new detective, Patty. Then, HQ comes down too. And then, his friends, his  _ team _ . 

He doesn’t have to lie to Eddie anymore. But he has to lie to Bill and Mike, to Bev, to Stan, to  _ Ben _ . 

The news reports are droning in the background, as they always are, but every time he hears about  _ New Villain Photon _ , he goes a little more insane. It’s not like he could really clear Eddie’s name, though; not without revealing some shit that would get him fired at best, and killed at worst.

So he manages to keep his mouth shut, quickly coming up with the cover story that Photon left as soon as the others arrived. It was half-true, anyway! Eddie  _ had _ booked it out of there pretty damn fast… but they don't need to know that Richie met back up with him afterwards.

He'd hoped the timeline of events would clear Photon's name- well, as much as a vigilante's name could be cleared by the very organization that put a hit out for him. It’s clear that Photon was on the scene while Richie was, which coincidentally is the same time the news is reporting that Georgie had been killed- no one thought that strange? No one noticed the gap in the story?

By the time Research comes up to question him, he barely thinks anything of it. They’re the… fifth? Yeah, fifth group who decided they need answers too, and that Richie somehow has the solution to whatever conspiracy their minds had brewed about the whole thing.

And that’s the kicker, isn’t it? That there really  _ is _ a conspiracy happening, not only right under their noses, but likely involving many of the same people involved in the interrogation. 

Funny, how corruption works like that.

Richie chuckles dryly to himself as he watches the Labcoats walk up to him, two beady guys following a research leader- a tall guy in front who he recognizes as Dr. Robert Gray.

_ Shit _ .

And, just like that, the day goes from stressful to terrifying.

Richie’s not good at hiding stuff like this. Feelings and vulnerabilities? Easy peasy! Pure, unbridled fear for himself and Eddie, and his team, and countless other lives? Quite a bit fucking harder!

He didn’t quite know what the scientist was up to, but he distinctly remembers what Eddie told him as Photon:  _ avoid Robert Gray at all costs _ . So… nothing good, clearly.

A bead of nervous sweat forms on his forehead as he stands moronically in front of them, willing himself to smile or wave or say hi or  _ anything _ that doesn’t make it glaringly obvious that he knows something’s up. 

Nothing comes to mind, and before he knows it, he’s looking up at the guy. Which, is unsettling in and of itself, since Richie’s pretty used to being the tallest guy in the room besides maybe Mike.

“Hey, doctors!” He finally spits out. “I’m guessing you want the juicy deets on last night, too?”

The Labcoats in the back are stoic, emotionless, much like the MIB-Rejects he sees all the time. Gray, though, has a slight smile on his face, something that makes Richie want to run.

“It seems you’ve caught us, Tozier.” His arms raise in a gesture that might have been defensive if done by anyone else. But in this case, it’s condescending; a farce, hiding something much more sinister.

Richie marches on anyway. 

“Not sure how much more there is to tell, fellas. HQ already has everything, pretty much.” 

He’s surprised, just a bit, at how casual his voice sounds. It’s like this is just another day, another meeting, another slight inconvenience while he remains clueless to the horrors actually going on.

(He’s not clueless anymore).

Robert Gray chuckles almost jovially.

“You know us researchers, we like a direct source.” The man’s eyes carry a hidden weight to them, and Richie doesn’t like the way he says ‘ _ direct source _ ’. “You were involved in another incident nearby recently, weren’t you?”

The question takes Richie by surprise. Another incident…? He has to wrack his brain for a moment before he remembers.

“You mean with the kid downtown? That me and Earthquake handled?”

Gray nods. “That’s the one,” he confirms. “People think that…  _ villain _ , you encountered yesterday evening, may be involved.”

Richie knows that’s not true.

But, he’s mostly concerned with how the scientists even  _ know _ about that situation, since he and Ben were basically given a hush order. The confusion must show on his face, too.

“O-oh,” he stammers. Smooth. “I uh, hadn't actually thought of that. Guess that’s why heroes don’t do the research, huh?”

He adds the comment along with an uncomfortable chuckle.

“Well, don’t feel too embarrassed. When you have access to the full reports, new things become clear.”

Gray’s voice doesn’t waver. It’s too steady, too sure, it’s something nobody would question except for a guy who knows something he shouldn’t. Richie has to physically swallow down the lump in his throat before responding.

“Guess I wouldn’t know then.” He shrugs, forcing another uncomfortable laugh. “All I know is what goes down during the fights.”

He hopes it’s enough to at least shift the conversation, away from files he shouldn’t have read and towards… well, anything.

“You should consider yourself lucky. That villain is dangerous, we believe he’s the figure that young girl saw in the sewers.”

The figure.  _ The clown _ .

The clown that hadn’t been in any of the reports.

The clown that a little girl told him, and  _ only him _ , about.

The clown that, for all intents and purposes, Robert Gray shouldn’t know about  _ at all _ . 

“How do you…” he begins, stupidly, and trails off once he realizes he can’t confront this man. Not here. 

Richie feels the blood drain from his face as everything begins to connect, and he knows immediately that he needs to leave but he feels completely frozen in place. A glance up at the scientist doesn’t help in the slightest, either; the polite grin on Gray’s face is a complete contrast to the downright  _ murderous _ gleam in his eyes.

“Is something wrong, Mister Tozier?” He asks, and Richie tries to turn around, to say he has to leave, to run or to yell or to do anything but he  _ can’t _ .

He realizes with nothing less than complete and utter horror that he literally cannot move.

The look on Robert Gray’s face is nothing short of terrifying. His eyes are… yellow? They’d been normal just a moment ago, but they’re fucking yellow now. His face pales, and Richie  _ swears _ his grin keeps growing, even when it’s impossibly wide.

“Don’t worry. Just come with me.”

Richie’s body moves without his brain telling it to as his vision fades out to an empty white screen.

* * *

Eddie doesn’t hear from Richie for days.

He’s not sure why; maybe there’s a lot of work at his agency, especially after that fight had gone down. He wouldn’t be surprised if he’d been interrogated about it, especially since Photon was a ‘villain’ in that agency’s eyes.

(He hadn’t seen the news.)

The first day, it’s not too concerning. Of course there would be paperwork- although, as a hero, is that even his job? Eddie had been operating under the assumption for a few months now that Richie handled paperwork and filing and all that boring shit he probably hated. Is that still true?

Either way, the day after an incident like that couldn’t be easy. Incident reports are probably a thing there. Eddie messaged him a few times, asking if he needed anything, but overall he didn’t bother too much.

The second day, of course Eddie’s a little more concerned. Richie hadn’t called, or even texted. Was he that busy all day?  _ And _ all night? Maybe that’s just how it works at the agency, in a hero’s world, but he still finds it hard not to freak out a little. 

He caves and calls Richie about halfway through the day, but there’s no answer. No phones allowed at work, probably… but that little anxious voice in his head rages strong.

By the third day, his composure is gone. He calls more than he should, but even his texts are unread. And he’s not trying to be a stalker, he swears! But… well, Richie’s in a dangerous line of business. He works with dangerous people, at a dangerous place, and this is day  _ three _ of no contact. So, yeah- Eddie’s a little freaked.

Again, Eddie’s not a stalker! But, he  _ does _ head over to Richie’s apartment to check up on him.

He tries to call up and get Richie to buzz him in, but he gets no answer. A few minutes later and he’s lucky enough to be let through the front door by a kind stranger; but, his anxiety spikes on the way. He sprints up the stairs because he  _ knows _ he’s much too impatient for the elevator, and he has too much energy to just stand around waiting for it.

It seems like forever by the time he gets to Richie’s door, and his heart pounds as he knocks. Maybe Richie had just been sleeping? Up for two days straight with work and now he’s passed out- that sounds reasonable!

“Rich?” Eddie calls out as he knocks, but to no avail.

No one answers. 

Seconds tick by, then minutes, and after almost half an hour there’s still nothing. He calls Richie a few more times, but he doesn’t hear a phone ring inside.

He’s… not at the apartment.

Eddie considers just leaving it alone, going back home and waiting. Richie could be busy, still handling the aftermath of that battle… 

That battle with the fucking Bowers’ gang, who had been looking for Eddie; the gang that was  _ clearly _ affiliated with Robert Gray, somehow. The gang that somehow knew where Eddie would be.

Eddie rushes out of the building quicker than he’d come into it, and he’s almost out the door until he overhears a conversation in the lobby.

“- Out all downtown, just be glad we don’t live near that stupid hero place.”

“Hey, it’s usually pretty quiet there!”

“Well not today! I don’t know what shit they’re experimenting with but if my power went out because of them, you better believe they’d be hearing it from me!”

Eddie doesn’t even care that he’s being annoying when he goes up to the two guys.

“Hey- I’m sorry, what was that about the hero place?”

They both look stunned, a little irritated, and they take way too many moments to respond. He may be short on time here, people!

“The- the power’s out, something’s up with the building…” One of them answers slowly.

“Do you know what’s going on?”

Eddie’s voice is shrill, his words sharp and snappy as they rush to keep up with his racing thoughts.

The guys look at him like he’s insane. He just might be.

“Uh… no…” 

Letting out an over-dramatic sigh, Eddie doesn’t dignify a response as he turns on his heel, rushing out the door. The building isn’t  _ too  _ far away, but it would waste precious time to run, or even grab a taxi. He could get there much quicker using his Ability.

It’s a risk, but he takes it. Ducking into an alleyway and making sure no eyes are on him as he hides behind a sizable dumpster, he gets his suit on with the press of a button. He’s not surprised at the stares he gets when he flies back out, using his own energy field to propel himself forward; there aren’t many flying heroes, and seeing an unfamiliar rando shooting through the sky probably doesn’t make anyone feel very comfortable.

The thought only stays in his mind for a fraction of a moment, because he’s off in the direction of the Agency as soon as he’s back on the street. His only concern is the Ability Task Force officers, if they’re out. But he can outrun them, he’s  _ sure _ of it.

Turns out, that’s not what Eddie has to worry about.

He notices people running in the opposite direction when he’s about a block away. And, once he lands in front of the agency, there are more hoards, although he can’t quite see what’s going on. 

There are alarms coming from the building though, and Eddie’s heart hammers in his chest as he tries to come up with an explanation.

_ A fire drill. _

_ Testing evac procedures. _

_ Just training… just testing… just a drill… _

He looks around, frantically trying to find Richie leading the crowds away, being a hero, but-

He’s met with stares. Really,  _ really _ uncomfortable stares as people run… which, he supposes, isn’t unexpected. 

And then- the others. The Losers! Richie told him they worked there too, that they were heroes! They could help! Eddie hadn’t connected the dots as to who exactly they were, but it starts to click as he approaches them.

“Hey! Hey-”

That’s all Eddie gets out before he suddenly can’t move. Vines constrict his body, the plants coming from seemingly nowhere.

( _ Mike). _

He grunts as he’s restrained- not lightly, he might add- and his friends aren’t even in uniform as they take fighting stances.

Oh- they probably think Eddie is some sort of villain, or rogue! Well, he’s a little rogue, maybe, but it’s for a good cause; he really is just there to help! It’s a misunderstanding, really, and surely he could explain it to them. They hadn’t met him, so it’s not like they had any prior judgement to go on, right?

Except Mike doesn’t let go.

And the expression on his face is… dark. Intimidating.  _ Pissed the fuck off _ . That’s not the face of a man who plans to let go anytime soon, or go easy on him.

“You have some f-f-f-fucking nerve showing up here!” Bill shouts.

If there’s any expression that could maybe rival Mike’s, it’s  _ his _ . But… why? They’d never even met before- well, Bill hasn’t met Photon before, so to say.

The vines constrict him too much to speak, although he tries. He doesn’t like the all-too-familiar sensation of being unable to breathe.

“I… help…-” Eddie croaks, but he gets no reaction besides the continued fury on his friends’ faces. He’s  _ trying _ to say he only wants to help.

“Help?  _ You? _ You killed my b-b-b-b-b- you killed G-G- _ Georgie _ you-” He pauses, and Eddie notices the way things begin to float around him into the air. Bricks, a pane of glass for a window, a fucking  _ car _ -

Sometimes he forgets that Mindgame can manipulate things as well as people-

Wait- Georgie? He’s…? And Bill thinks…? The implication is almost more concerning than being slowly crushed

“Georgie?” Eddie repeats, voice still no more than a croak as his breathing starts to become difficult.

“Hey-” a familiar calming voice chimes in- but, not to Eddie. “Slow down, if you kill him you’re gonna have to deal with the consequences. Remember that’s not our job.”

It’s Ben.

It’s Ben, talking about  _ killing him _ . 

To say Eddie’s shellshocked would be the fucking understatement of the century. 

But, despite the chill that goes down his spine at Ben’s words, they work enough that the vines loosen. He’s still restrained, but he can breathe, and he can talk. And, he can cough. Which he does.

“Wha- why are you gonna kill me I- I didn’t do anything to Georgie I’m not whoever you think I am I swear!” Eddie yells, the sentence becoming just a string of words as he rushes to get it out.

It’s met with a rock to the cheek, and one of the others hissing a scolding “dude” to the offender.

Fucking  _ ow _ , a telakinetic stone slicing through skin hurt like a motherfucker. He doesn’t have to see it to know there was a steady stream of blood falling down his face.

“S-s-s-s-shut up!” Bill yells back. His voice cracks.

He’s heartbroken, and Eddie can see it clear as day on his face… and it fucking  _ hurts _ , seeing a friend like that. 

“Listen- listen to me! Bill, I swear I didn’t-”

Eddie’s cut off by Bill yelling at him to shut up again, at the same time Mike speaks up.

“How do you know his name?”

That threatening look still gleams in Mike’s eyes, though his eyebrows become furrowed in confusion. It’s a start… Eddie will take curiosity over sheer intent to kill, especially when he’s now aware of how absurdly  _ powerful _ his friends are.

“I- I- because I-” He stammers, pausing despite everything because, well, how much could he say? “Because I know you!”

Obviously the wrong choice- the vines tighten again, and Eddie has to think fast.

“Richie!” He blurts.

Mike stops again.

“What-?” Ben starts, but Bill cuts him off.

“Don’t fucking listen to him! What the f-f-f-”

“How do you know him?” Mike responds, once again melting from fury to curiosity. But, Eddie is once again faced with the same predicament.

“I know- I know that he’s a hero, and I know that he’s in there and he might be in danger, you really need to just believe me on this-”

“WHY THE FUCK SHOULD I BELIEVE YOU?” 

While Mike doesn’t do anything, it’s clear that Bill… wants to kill him. Beverly stands behind them, not looking entirely convinced either. Eddie chances a glance at Ben, too, who throws his arm in front of Bill to stop him from charging forward.

“Bill, come on-”

Bill doesn’t seem to have any intention of listening; but Mike does.

“The- the scientist, in there, Robert Gray, he’s doing all kinds of shady shit, you  _ have _ to believe me. Or- or find Richie, he knows!” Eddie pleads. He doesn’t even have to be freed, or let into the building, but if  _ someone _ could find Richie…

“He’s playing you.”

Stan…

The tension grows clearly after he says that, distrust of Eddie- no, of  _ Photon _ \- only growing.

So, Eddie does what he has to; he takes Photon out of the equation.

It takes a little angling and some weird chin movements, but he’s able to slide the mask off his face. At the same time, he angles his hand, pressing the small button on his bracelet which releases his suit. In the moment, he doesn’t care who sees.

“Can you fucking trust me  _ now _ ?”

They all recognize him, that much is clear. Of  _ course _ they recognize him.

Ben and Mike’s expressions soften, but Bill surges forward. 

“No- no! I don’t-!” He pauses only to let out a groan of frustration, his hands reaching up to grab his own hair before coming back down to fists at his sides. He pointed at Eddie then, pain written on his face. “ _ He’s _ still responsible-”

“Bill,” Mike urges, and the vines retract.

“He still did this he still  _ f-f-f-fucking _ did this!”

“I’m trying to tell you that I didn’t fucking do anything Bill! Why would I hurt Georgie-”

A brick surges at him then, only to be stopped at the last second by a wall of concrete thanks to Ben.

“Don’t- d-d-don’t say his name! Don’t you dare s-s-say his name!”

His eyes are welling up, but  _ fuck _ there’s no time for this! Whether or not Bill believes him, there’s more pressing matters at hand, and this has to wait.

“I didn’t  _ do _ anything- okay, okay listen!  _ Listen _ , Bill, I don’t care you can fucking hate me if you want but someone  _ needs _ to get inside there and see what’s happening,  _ now _ -”

Between the others, there are various murmurs.

Ben suggests listening to what Eddie has to say.

Mike tells Bill everything will be okay.

Stan voices his suspicions.

Beverly asks where Richie is.

Eddie clenches his hands into fists, because he cannot  _ believe _ nobody is listening to him right now. 

“We don’t fucking have time for this,” he mutters, surging forward only to be stopped by something at his feet, nearly tripping him.

“No, you don’t get to leave that easily!”

_ For fucks sake. _ For the first time in a while, Eddie feels his hands surge with energy involuntarily.

“Okay, fine! Then you tell me Bill, have  _ you _ heard from Richie in the past three fucking days? ‘Cause I haven’t, and  _ I _ think he’s in  _ there _ with a mad fucking scientist who’s been scheming under your noses for months! And I don’t have any fucking time to argue with you over a crime that for some reason you think I committed!”

Bev is silent where she stands; Ben too. Bill looks ready to strike again when Mike speaks up.

“You haven’t seen the news?”

Eddie’s confusion mixes with his anger.

“Don’t c-c-c-c-cover for him Mike of  _ course _ he’s seen the news. They’re j-just reporting what he already knows he’s done!”

“Reporting  _ what _ ?! Why does that even fucking matter right now-”

“Eddie… they’re saying Photon m-” Mike begins, and pauses for a moment, nervous eyes glancing towards Bill. “They’re saying Photon  _ murdered _ Georgie, a few nights ago when that restaurant got attacked.”

…

Oh.

The first thing that clicks into place is that Georgie really is… he really…

The second thing that clicks is that there’s a smear campaign out against him.

And the third? He has an alibi now.

“Wh- I didn’t- I was out with Richie when that happened! I didn’t touch Georgie, Bill you know I love that kid-”

“SHUT UP!”

The stray debris that had floated downwards had started back up again, Bill’s eyes glossing over.

Ben mutters something in a low tone, and Eddie’s sure he’s trying to reason with Bill but it doesn’t work.

It doesn’t work, and Richie is  _ in that building somewhere _ , he’s gotta be, he’s somewhere trapped by that fucking scientist and no one seems to care and the only other person who knows Robert Gray’s secret is bleeding from the fucking face and probably going to have to fight fucking  _ Mindgame _ and-

He doesn’t want to fight  _ anyone _ ! Not his friends!

Beverly chimes in.

“Bill… I haven’t seen Richie since the day after that incident.”

“Me neither…” Ben agrees.

Bill pauses for a moment before grimacing.

“You- if Richie’s missing, it’s probably  _ his _ fault! You saw him that night, for all we know maybe you took him too!”

Eddie stills.

Mike shoots Bill a look, like he knows that’s too far, but Bill keeps pushing. Bill keeps pushing, and Eddie keeps boiling- not just in anger, but also in pure unbridled  _ fear _ because  _ nobody else has seen Richie either _ . 

“No that’s- that’s not-” Eddie tries.

“You’re fucking  _ sick _ , you’d s-s-start running if you were smart, you fucking  _ murderer _ -”

“I didn’t hurt- I didn’t  _ kill _ anyone I- I didn’t take  _ Richie _ I swear he’s  _ in there _ I just need to find him- you can arrest me later or fucking- fucking whatever I just need to get through right now you don’t  _ understand _ -

“-Locking you up would b-b-b-be merciful after what you d-did-”

“- _ Please _ I just need to get to him-”

“-If you think I’m letting you n-near  _ anyone else _ you’re fucking insane-”

“- _ PLEASE-” _

“-Can go cry your s-s-s-sob story to someone else you probably took Richie too-”

“-I  _ LOVE _ HIM,  _ PLEASE _ -”

After that, in the middle of Eddie’s babbling and begging, he suddenly stops. His eyes gloss over, hands falling limp to his sides as Bill’s gaze locks onto him.

“Bill…” Mike implores, but it’s too late.

Eddie doesn’t know what’s happening, but he’s not on the street anymore. He’s not anywhere, it seems. It’s like being asleep, except he can feel… something.

A sensation, an uncomfortable sort of probe in his mind, poking around in his brain. Something unwelcome, something accessing thoughts and feelings and  _ memories _ that are supposed to be for him alone.

The pressure in his head builds and builds, until he finally sees something- a confusing mash of memories, various from over the past month. From Rob Gray’s lab, to encounters with Forcefield, talks with Richie, and finally to the night of their date… All of it, laid out for an intruder and spilling from him like blood from a wound.

He watches again as Rob Gray steals the Ability of the Deadlights, he hears the screams, he feels the danger whir pass him again as Richie’s forcefield separates him from certain death.

He watches himself take Richie on a date,  _ so close _ to happiness before he had to risk it all. He feels the heat of the battle as he jumps off the building, he hears all of Richie’s quips as they fight alongside each other.

It’s like a flashback, but everything is clearer; as if he was there again.

And, as suddenly as it began, it stops.

Eddie’s snapped back to the real world, to his spot on the street, where he loses his balance and falls to his knees.

For a second, he’s not sure what’s going on. Disoriented, it feels like he’s awakening from a dream. The feeling doesn’t stop until he raises his head, looking up and meeting Bill’s wide eyes.

The other Losers look to Bill for a reaction, or maybe for guidance, but he’s silent.

Seconds tick by, and Eddie finally drags himself to his feet as he realizes what actually happened- that Bill entered his mind. 

He’s still as he watches Bill catch his breath.

“It’s… I’m sorry…” He says, taking a step back. “I’m sorry.”

Eddie wants to be mad, and he probably should be, but he’s not. He’s relieved; with this out of the way, he can move forward, he can finally fucking do something.

“It’s all true, it’s ah-a-a-all true…”

The Losers shift their gazes to Eddie then; so, he explains.

“That scientist, Robert Gray, he’s been experimenting. He’s the reason behind the missing heroes, he- I think he’s taking their Abilities, and I think he’s the reason behind a string of missing childrens’ cases too,” he says solemnly. 

“Oh my god…” Ben responds. “That explains… Richie and I, we saw something, and the agency prevented us from helping.” 

“That has to have been him,” Eddie postulates. “He-”

His sentence is cut off by a rumbling in the building. 

_ Fuck _ , he thinks, mind already racing in a panic.  _ Fuck, we’re too late, I waited too long- _

The others have their uniforms on in less than a second. Facing the building, Eddie can’t help but notice how  _ prepared _ they look; like this is their job, like this is what they’re made for.

Because it is.

But the building rumbles again, and they still just look… prepared. And, not unlike usual, Eddie’s talking before he can stop himself.

“Ben, Stan- you guys are good at evac, we gotta get civilians out of the area. Bev, Bill, Mike, we need to go see what’s going on.”

He’s met with nods before the former two rush off, and the latter three stay for the fight.

Eddie doesn’t know it, but he’s acting like a real hero.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry it's been taking so long to update! I'm gonna try hard to get started early on the last chapters :3
> 
> ALSO! I'm going to be expanding the length of this, because I've been splitting up events into different chapters than what I'd intended. So, look for at least 11 chapters, maybe 12? Who knows! 
> 
> As always, feel free to hop on my tumblr or insta and talk to me about the fic! Or anything, I like friendship ;_;


	10. Bravery: Pt. 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eddie takes action.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter TWs in end notes

Richie doesn’t know how much time has passed when he finally comes to.

What he  _ does _ know, however, is that he can’t move his arms. Or his legs. Or his head. He’s bound, some medieval-esque torture device he’s sure… or, maybe just a chair with restraints on it. He struggles for a moment against them as he opens his eyes, greeted with a dimly-lit room that he vaguely recognizes.

_ The lab _ , he realizes with rising terror.

He struggles against the restraints to see how tight they are; for a normal person, they’d pose a problem, but it’s no match for his Ability. His hands begin to shimmer before he hears a familiar, ominous laugh.

From the shadows emerges, unsurprisingly, Dr. Robert Gray, exactly how Richie remembers him looking before he was- what, knocked out? Hypnotized? Whatever- the doctor’s eyes are yellow, his smile impossibly wide and so red that Richie thinks there might be blood on his lips. 

His skin looks paler than it had been before, which Richie only notices because it’s freaky as hell. That, and his previously dark hair seems much more… orange? 

That grin stretches up to his cheeks, making his skin appear almost cracked. Or, no, maybe it really is cracked? The doctor reaches his hands up to his face, and as he drags his nails down, more fissures appear on his cheeks, forehead, and chin.

Is this a nightmare?

“You’re awake…” 

The disturbing air of his face extends to his voice, the words sounding almost distorted.

Richie can only groan in response, blinking his eyes against the increasingly brightening room- when did it grow bright? It’s not the regular fluorescence of the normal office lights, either; it’s orange, like fire. Or, maybe like an explosion.

“I’ve had my eye on you, you know. I never thought I’d get such an…  _ opportunity _ .”

That doesn’t do anything to calm Richie down. His heart beats faster, and he once again tries at the restraints. Unsurprisingly, he gets nothing.

“Don’t bother trying. Stronger heroes than you have sat in that chair.”

...What?

The mix between horror and confusion must show on Richie’s face. The scientist laughs, then continues.

“This is my favorite part, you know. The explanation. It’s so lovely having an audience, even if it’s an audience of one.”

Literally nothing he’s saying makes sense.

“What- Listen, Doctor Gray-” 

“Ah-ah,” he interrupts Richie in a chiding voice. “None of that, now. You heroes all get names when you’re in action, right? I think I deserve a name, too.” He grins, that evil smile too wide for his face, extending too far up on his cheeks and towards his eyes. “The kids call me Pennywise.”

The kids…

Richie’s eyebrows turn up, still confused, still trying to piece things together- but the bits start to fit easier now. He remembers the young girl, helpless on the street, crying about how a clown took her sister. He remembers how that was left out of the incident report, and he remembers the fear when he realized that might have been deliberately overlooked.

He feels an equal amount of fear now, realizing it was  _ definitely _ deliberately overlooked.

The doctor- no, the  _ monster _ \- hums pleasantly, eyes closed as if enjoying a meal or a song rather than murder.

“Hm… Fear. It’s always strengthened the vitality, though I’ve never been able to find out why.”

What the fuck is he going on about?

The restraints are unmoving, even as Richie tries to activate his Ability. Robert- er, well, ‘Pennywise’ now, he guesses- keeps talking.

(The fuck kind of name is  _ Pennywise _ anyway? Fucking stupid.)

“That’s my first Ability, you know. Vi-ta-lity…” He draws out each syllable, and looks around the room to draw Richie’s attention, presumably, to the various charts he has placed on the walls. “A bit of a barbaric thing, if I say so myself. In order to gain any strength, destruction of the host is necessary first… it gets quite messy, you can imagine.”

Richie’s about to ask what the fuck that means, but he continues after a quick, almost nostalgic sigh.

“At first, I just wanted to find a way to make things a little less… grotesque, so to say. Well, that, and I wanted to find ways to increase the fear… tasty, tasty fear.”

He locks eyes with Richie, presumably for a fearful reaction, but Richie continues to watch him nonplussed.

“Are… are you fucking monologuing to me right now?”

Pennywise’s eyes flare, something menacing and clearly angry.

“Such a rude audience, it seems.”

Richie shrugs.

“What can I say, being yakked to by a villainous clown doesn’t tend to bring out my polite side.”

“Such bold words for a man in your position,” he responds, tone almost warning. Or, maybe threatening.

There’s the ever-present urge to keep running his mouth, but Richie manages to shut it instead, and the monologue continues.

“I’m sure you’re aware of what I’ve been doing by now, based on that little stunt you pulled with Photon. Teaming up with a villain… I’ll admit, that’s not something I expected of you, Tozier.”

Little stunt… Richie remembers well. He remembers hiding in the shadows, right outside this lab, pouring all his power into keeping a protective field around  _ Eddie _ . He remembers watching as blasts of power almost hit him, blasts strong enough that Richie could feel their strain against his Ability.

“I- he’s not a villain. You don’t look like you’re in any position to criticize him.”

He should’ve known he couldn’t keep his mouth shut long enough to stay safe.

Pennywise scoffs, and he looks… well, inhuman. His eyes point in different directions, and they glow- not like Eddie’s do, not with power, but with threat. His teeth show through that nasty grin of his, something Richie hadn’t noticed before; rows and rows of teeth, like a shark’s, lie just beyond the caked, blood red ‘skin’ on his lips. 

“Now,  _ him _ … If I could get a hand on that Ability of his, that would be ideal.” He pauses, looking almost wistfully into the air. “It’s always been so interesting to me… how different Abilities manifest, how some are useless, and some are… well, look at you. And don’t even get me started on the Denbrough brothers…” he trails off then, grin widening, and Richie feels sick to his stomach.

“Georgie… I fucking knew it wasn’t E- Photon, I fucking  _ knew _ \- how did-”

He’s interrupted with a sickening chuckle, like this is a game. Like this is fun. And to this monster of a man, maybe it is.

“Going after Mindgame would’ve raised too many eyebrows… but his brother’s telepathy has come in handy, I must say. And his  _ fear _ … it made for a lovely snack.”

Richie can’t suppress how he retches, the image of poor little Georgie, scared and dying… being  _ eaten _ , fucking  _ Christ _ -

And, more terrifying still, the fact that somehow he  _ has _ Georgie’s Ability now…

And something about fear gets this guy off, apparently. So Richie tries his best to shove it down.

“So what- you take people’s Abilities, that’s your thing? You steal them and- and what, eat people?”

Another chuckle fills the space, though it’s not menacing in nature. It sounds like something you’d hear at a carnival, from a clown about to give you cotton candy or something. It’s still creepy as hell, but it’s no wonder he’d been able to lure kids like that.

“So simple minded,” the monster- the  _ clown _ drawls. He reaches behind him for something, though Richie can’t see what. “I’m a scientist at heart, not a killer. But with an Ability like mine… well, what else is there to do? But I’ve found a way to boost it, to make it even better…”

There’s a whir of machinery, the sound of buttons pressed and flipped switches.

“What are- what are you doing?” 

Richie regrets it as soon as he asks. He knows it was a stupid question, but his racing pulse and rising anxiety don’t seem to care.

“To put it in simple terms, I guess you could say I’m stealing Abilities and eating people,” Pennywise answers, punctuated with that same unsettling laughter.

Oh.

_ That’s _ why Richie’s here. 

Well, the time for letting the villain monologue is definitely over now. Despite the blood draining from his face, Richie concentrates on a familiar hum in his body, something he’d learned to synchronize with many years ago. 

He doesn’t do this often. The strain on his body is intense, and the possibility for disaster is very real. But, drastic times, drastic measures, right?

“Your power is certainly impressive… that forcefield Ability will be nice for my collection.”

Eyes shut, Richie connects with a feeling deep inside himself, and he doesn’t need to look to know that his hands are shimmering.

“You think my Ability is just making force fields, huh?” he mutters, still focusing on keeping that inner connection.

The clown hums inquisitively, almost amused, only a few feet away.

“Well, if we’re simplifying, I suppose.” His tone is arrogant, knowing, and Richie’s strength is reassured in Robert Gray’s ignorance.

He flexes his fingers now, and as he opens his eyes, an indigo haze settles around him.

“Some scientist you are.”

Lights begin to flicker as Richie’s breaths even out, and he takes comfort in the flicker of uncertainty on the clown’s face as the building begins to rumble.

“My Ability is Force.”

* * *

The rumbling in the building becomes more intense, the sound of cracking concrete and fallen debris becoming gradually louder. The surrounding buildings begin to creak ominously as well, and it’s clear that  _ something _ is happening inside the Agency.

_ Shit _ .

With Bev, Bill, and Mike behind him, Eddie watches debris start to fall- concrete slabs and bits of glass shatter as they hit the sidewalk. He stares, eyes wide, and there’s only one thought on his mind.

Richie’s still in there.

He’s frozen only for a moment before he runs, the cries of the others only faded pleas behind him.

“Eddie you can’t-”

“You need to get back-”

“It’s not gonna hold-”

Eddie doesn’t care; he charges forward anyway, shaking off Mike’s vines as they try to stop him and pull him back. Because, at the end of the day, there’s one person above everyone else that Eddie would risk everything for. And if he has to lose everything so Richie makes it out, then he’s okay with that.

But he can handle it, he tells himself. His energy field can handle it, his body can handle it, and even if it can’t it doesn’t matter because he  _ has to get to Richie _ -

He repeats those sentiments to himself as he runs, as he closes in, the doors so close and one blast could open them. The rumbling noise crescendos to a thunder in his ears, like a train right next to him-

And then he’s thrown backwards with a force he’s never felt before. He flies through the air in what seems like slow-motion until he meets the hard concrete of a building on the other side of the street, and grunts at the impact before crumpling like a paper doll.

Everything is silent besides a persistent ringing in his ear. Certainly there’s plenty of crashing, and crumbling happening, but the volume is next to nothing.

As Eddie opens his eyes, he notices the searing pain in his back. He swallows around a lump in his throat, which doesn’t help anything. His arms ache from falling on them, and sharp pain prickles across his body. Cuts and scrapes, mostly, which begin healing as soon as Eddie regains himself. The wound on his cheek from Bill has already faded.

Perks of having an Ability that enhances his body’s life energy?  _ Everything is enhanced _ . It’s irritating when he’s too tired. It’s great in cases like this.

The ache in his back doesn’t subside as easily as the smaller scratches, though. He folds his legs beneath him and rolls up onto his knees, wincing as his body protests. Yeah- he’s definitely going to have a nasty bruise on the skin there, if not down to the bone. 

He forces himself up, though he staggers through a headrush once he rises to his feet. As he takes in his surroundings, sound starts to return to him-

Screaming.

There’s a  _ lot _ of screaming.

Civilians panic in the background, and he can hear Stan and Ben calling to each other for evacuation confirmations.

Mike calls out for Bill.

Bev calls out for Eddie.

And Eddie’s too busy following the crumbling debris from the structure that was once the hero agency, eyes trailing up until he sees it.

Bev finds him then, running up to him with Mike and Bill in tow and worrying over Eddie’s physical state. He feels her hands on him, but he doesn’t look away.

On what would be the fifth floor- the laboratory- is Richie.

He floats, suspended in the air, eyes soulless. Eddie recognizes the Ability used on him immediately.

“Deadlights…” He whispers.

Beverly pauses in her examination, eyebrows upturned and concern written across her expression.

“What…?”

Eddie’s gaze doesn’t shift. Eventually, Beverly follows it, and so do Mike and Bill. They’re met with the same horrifying sight.

“That- that can’t be, that’s Shellshock’s Ability- he went missing-” Mike mutters. 

Eddie shakes his head.

“Kidnapped,” he mumbles in return.

“That’s…” Bev starts, glancing between Eddie and Richie’s comatose body. “That’s not Shellshock’s doing, is it…”

Eddie wishes she wasn’t right. “No,” he confirms. Bev takes a stuttering breath from beside him, but he continues. “I watched Robert Gray steal his Ability some weeks ago.”

It seems to settle among the others then what they’re really up against; a psychopath who knows all too much about them, who’s stolen Abilities in the past, and who is prepared to destroy what he has to in order to steal more. 

Ben and Stan return then, landing on either side of Eddie.

“Civilian Control took over evac, but-” Ben cuts himself off as his eyes take in the scene in front of him. “What… what happened?”

Instead of an answer, there’s an unsettling noise. 

_ Laughter _ , Eddie realizes with a nauseating feeling in his chest. 

It’s all-consuming, surrounding them, and each of them looks in a different direction as they try to locate the source. Ben looks down, towards the sewers; Mike and Stan look towards the sky; Bill and Bev search out in the distance; and Eddie’s gaze is locked on Richie, unmoving where he floats mid-air. 

Ultimately, none of them are right.

From what used to be the door of the Agency, a red balloon floats over, slowly and almost menacingly. 

“What the fuck…” Bev murmurs, and suddenly all of their eyes are glued to the object.

It resonates the same laughter they’d heard before as it creeps closer. Eddie doesn’t miss the way Mike steps closer to Bill, or the way Ben steps closer to Bev. Stan backs away from it entirely, and it’s Eddie left in front as the balloon stops only a few feet away.

The laughter stops, too.

For a few moments, there’s eerie silence, nothing but the crumbling of the buildings around them until the balloon starts to squeak, loud and grating. 

Eddie realizes with rising horror that it’s growing. With one hand covering his ear, he tugs on the sleeve of whoever’s nearest to him- it happens to be Mike- and urges them to run. They get maybe twenty feet away before the laughter starts up again, raising to a roar, and the balloon pops.

It’s almost as bad as the building’s initial explosion.

Each of them covers their ears, taking whatever shelter they can from the noise as the remains of the structures around them shake with the force of it. It’s near deafening, but not enough to drown out how the laughter simply builds.

What shakes Eddie to his core, though, is the shadow he can see on the ground that’s definitely  _ not _ from a simple balloon. He turns around cautiously, and what he’s met with is… a monster.

It’s Robert Gray, he  _ knows _ it is, but he’s huge- a giant head on a giant body, limbs sticking out like spider legs with claws anchoring him to the ground. His face is distorted, skin crumbling like the debris off of the building, smile impossibly red as it splits his face.

This is someone who’s no longer human.

“You guys- you guys s-s-see that too, right?” Bill whispers, his tone panicked and his face pale. 

The monster grins.

“I… see…  _ you _ …” It growls. 

Eddie had been somewhat prepared to handle a mad scientist, someone with power but, for all intents and purposes,  _ human _ . But this… this isn’t human. Maybe technically, by genetic makeup, but nothing else about It is.

He needs to figure out how he’s going to get to Richie, protect him, and get everyone else out of there. And, of course, how the fuck to defeat a spider clown monster…

“I saw  _ Georgie _ , too!” It speaks again, voice seeming to drip out of its mouth like poison.

Bill freezes where he stands, glare turning cold.

“What did you say?” He hisses.

Eddie  _ needs _ to think quick. With enough energy, could he destroy It? Kill It? What about Richie- what would be his fate? Could he get out with his Ability?

…

Does he still  _ have _ his Ability?

A million thoughts go through Eddie’s head as Bill’s eyes turn white, locking with the monster’s, and…

Nothing happens. 

After a few moments, there’s more unsettling chuckling, and Bill physically stumbles out of his attempted trance. Mike is quick enough to catch him, but the former is visibly shaken. 

“How…?”

It doubles over- not in pain, but in joy, as it dissolves into laughs. 

“I thought you were smarter than that, Mindgame, my boy! Don’t you remember, I showed you  _ weeks _ ago that I knew how to cancel out your silly Ability!” It’s voice booms, and the fact that Bill’s power is ineffective does nothing to help Eddie solidify a plan.

He’d never been the leader of the group. Bill was the natural-born captain out of all of them, the one who could unify them all. Mike was the one who could come up with elaborate plans and ideas; so could Bev, although hers were typically more risky. Even Richie had always been more of a planner, more of a director than him. Eddie? Eddie never had a plan in his life until he escaped that room and ran like hell. And what kind of a plan was just… running?

Is that what they should all do? Run? Maybe they could make it, maybe they could get help, maybe-

_ Bam _ .

Right in front of him, one of the monster’s legs crashes against the pavement. Eddie’s about to yell that they run, that the others get out of there, and he could grab Richie, but Mike beats him to it.

Except, he doesn’t run. He doesn’t tell the others to run, either.

Instead, he thrusts his hands out in front of him, and through the cracks in the sidewalk grow two enormous vines. They wrap around the appendage, and as Mike surges forward, the vines pull the monster’s leg back.

Eddie notices a sound, almost like the crashing of a wave, as Ben joins Mike. The concrete he stands on turns to liquid beneath him as he rides towards It. Suddenly, the ground supporting two of the monster’s legs softens, and It loses balance enough to fall through. 

It lets out an ear-splitting screech as It tumbles down; Bev lets out an equally fearsome yell as she launches herself forward, too. She shoves her goggles down onto her face in an instant, flames trailing behind her. Out of the smoke rises Stan, strong wings carrying him through the air towards the screeching beast ahead of them.

Eddie watches them all. Fearless, acting without hesitation, without knowing the full extent of it all. He’s frozen, thinking of how he could stop them and still save the day until Bill sends a cluster of debris flying at the monster. He turns, looks back at Eddie, and locks eyes with him.

His expression is determined. Sure. Certain. As he nods, he’s telling Eddie without words that it’s okay, that they’ve got this.

And maybe, Eddie doesn’t have to solve this alone.

He nods back, and finally wills his body to move.

_ Richie _ .

Before he can overthink and freeze in fear, he rushes up to Richie, using his Ability to propel him through the air as quickly as possible. He’s careful to avoid the fight below- Bev’s flames and Mike’s vines swiping through the air, and projectiles from Ben and Bill. Not to mention, the inhuman screeching coming from behind him doesn’t make flying the easiest thing.

There’s a ground beneath them, but not much. Richie floats about ten feet above the remains of the fifth floor, and Eddie hovers in front of him.

“Rich?” He asks, voice soft and easily drowned out by the destruction in the background.

At the moment, Eddie doesn’t register that he’s crying a little. 

Richie doesn’t answer. Eddie knows, somewhere in his mind, that Richie wouldn’t have answered even if Eddie screamed instead. 

He’s not asleep; that’s the problem. He’s in a trance, eyes glossed over and jaw slack, absolutely blank. 

Eddie’s always loved how expressive Richie is, from his dorky smile to his one eye that gets all squinty when he’s happy, to the way his eyebrows can soar halfway up his forehead if he makes them. Richie can bulge his eyes to the point where Eddie fears for his eye sockets, and can fold his lips into weird shapes- but usually, he uses his power for pouting his lip when he wants something. It works pretty much all the time, whether he knows it or not.

Eddie doesn’t think he’s ever seen Richie with  _ no _ expression. 

Taking hold of Richie’s shoulders, Eddie maneuvers them to the ground. Despite being able to move him, though, Richie still doesn’t awaken. It’s as if gravity is turned off for him too; even though he’s on the ground, he doesn’t have any weight to him, and his body doesn’t even attempt to work to support him. 

“Richie…” he tries again, this time shaking Richie’s shoulders a little. His voice is no louder than it was the first time, but it’s significantly shakier. And, still, it doesn’t do anything.

Richie barely looks alive.

And maybe, as long as that monster is alive, he’ll stay this way.

“Rich, come on, please I really need you to wake up,” he babbles on. Again, he shakes Richie’s shoulders, and again, it does absolutely nothing.

A rumble from behind them shakes Eddie from his pleading, and he turns around to see the creature again trapped in concrete. Just as quickly, however, It claws Its way out.

Bill sends a few sizable chunks of debris careening into Its face as Its distracted by Ben. It reels back, roaring, and for a moment, Eddie thinks he can see Richie’s previously still form falter. 

So he gets an idea.

“B- Mindgame!”

Bill pauses where he stands, locking eyes with Eddie, who points to his head in a silent plea.

_ Use your Ability; enter my mind _

And Bill does. It’s about as weird as last time, but less painful. Eddie lets him in, and instead of being overwhelmed by the feeling of someone digging around in his thoughts, he’s free to talk as he needs. It’s as if Bill is right in front of him, but more intense; it’s as if Bill is  _ connected _ to him. 

_ Perfect _ .

He hears the fight from Bill’s standpoint as well. It’s louder, almost deafening, and he hears his friends yelling as they desperately try to fight this thing. 

_ Bill, _ Eddie speaks. Or, well, thinks.  _ Get It to face me. Get It looking at me. _

_ Are you fucking insane? _ Bill ‘replies’. And, yeah, Eddie knows it’s crazy.

_ Maybe. But you need to trust me. And once It faces me, give It everything you’ve got. Tell the others, they’ll listen to you. _

Bill agrees before cutting contact, leaving Eddie gasping for breath as he’s snapped back to reality. 

Maybe he is crazy. And maybe he doesn’t have any authority to make the calls here- he’s not the hero, after all. He hasn’t seen battles like this. But, he thinks this can work.

He thinks he can kill this monster… he believes he can.

Richie still floats, mindless, weightless like a ghost. Eddie traces a hand across his cheek, not allowing himself to think too much about how blank Richie’s eyes are.

“It’s okay, Rich. I’m gonna get you out of this.”

With a new determination, he faces the monster and the battlefield happening right beneath him. Richie’s far enough away from the ledge that he’ll be safe from whatever happens… hopefully. Honestly, Eddie knows he can’t guarantee his safety, he can’t guarantee  _ anyone’s _ safety. He supposes no hero can.

But he’s sure as hell gonna try.

It’s familiar; the thrum of energy through his core as he ignites his body. His limbs are the first to glow, his pulse thrumming beneath his skin with it. Eventually his full body is emitting light, the brightest of which radiates from his eyes.

He watches the fight, as Mike’s vines yank on Its legs, as Bev’s flames turn It away, as they work together to lure It over towards Eddie. Stan flies overhead, becoming the newest target as It attempts to lock him into the deadlights.

A light erupts from the monster’s mouth, and it’s almost too perfect as It overlooks the surge of energy waiting for It. Eddie decides this is going to work, even if it fucking kills him. 

“Beep beep, motherfucker.”

Like pulling the trigger to a gun, Eddie lets his energy burst. Both light and power are concentrated into the blast, emitting from his hands with the force of a bomb. 

The light makes it hard to see at first, but Eddie knows the blast surges directly into Its mouth when he hears a bestial screech of pain. It stumbles backwards, clearly injured and sputtering god knows what from the wound. The rest of the group backs away, avoiding the substance just in case.

Eddie’s more focused on the  _ thump _ behind him than the monster in front of him, though.

He turns around to see Richie, lying on his back. The anxiety builds in his chest until he notices the flutter of his eyelids-  _ Thank god. _ Eddie rushes over to him, weight slowly but surely lifting off of him as he watches the glaze leave Richie’s eyes.

Eddie sinks to the ground beside him without hesitation, cradling his face because- well, he doesn’t really have a reason; it just feels right. 

“Rich?”

There’s no response, but he’s blinking, and the color is returning to his eyes with every passing second. Eddie lets out a deep exhale, smile ghosting his face as he lovingly slaps Richie’s cheek.

“Yes- Yeah, there he is!” Eddie cheers, overcome with relief. 

Richie’s expression is still pretty blank, but at least he’s cognizant. His eyes search Eddie’s, deep blue flicking back and forth. Suddenly, anxiety isn’t the only thing blooming in Eddie’s chest.

“I think- I think I got It Richie, I think I killed It…” He mutters.

Without even a chance to overthink, Eddie leans down and presses their foreheads together. It’s tender, too much so given the screeching still coming from below them, but Eddie tunes it out easily as Richie’s hands find his shoulders. They move slowly up to his neck and in his hair and it’s  _ almost  _ perfect.

The bloom in his chest is almost more potent than any of his anxiety was.

He almost leans down the rest of the way as Richie lets his eyes shut.

And then it’s ruined as  _ something _ splatters across Richie’s face and chest, ruined as Richie’s eyes fly open.

Ruined as he feels a searing, horrible pain in his arm.

The sensation is so unexpected that Eddie barely even reacts, besides glancing down towards his shoulder. Something protrudes from it that he realizes after a moment is one of the sharp limbs of the clown. 

He hears cackling in the background, and he might hear Bev scream, but mostly he hears the horrified gasp Richie lets out.

“Eddie?” He croaks.

“Richie…” 

Eddie’s not sure what he was trying to say. Maybe a reassurance, maybe a cry for help, or maybe because it helps him solidify that Richie is  _ there _ . No matter what’s happening, Richie is there, and Richie’s okay. Isn’t that what matters most?

“Richie-”

Eddie tries again to call out to him, but he’s yanked back.

He’s vaguely aware of the sensation of flying through the air again, and less so aware of feeling the clown’s limb withdrawing from his shoulder. Through the pain, the heat of blood pouring down his body, and the fact that the monster is nowhere near dead, Eddie’s focus remains steady.

All of those worries are outweighed as he watches Richie get further and further away from him.

As he hits the ground, he loses consciousness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW:  
> -Depictions of violence  
> -Mentioned child death  
> -Mentioned cannibalism  
> -Serious injury  
> \----  
> Ahhh I know this has taken over a month, I'm so sorry! I intended this to be a lot longer but I think splitting it up into 2 chapters is better. The next chapter will be out a lot sooner than another month though so be prepared for a shorter wait!  
> Also, this story will now be 12 chapters rather than 10, because 2 parts of the story had to be split up into different chapters. I really want to get everything done by the end of the year!
> 
> Once again, thank you for reading and feel free to come talk to me on tumblr or insta!


	11. Bravery: Pt. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Richie takes action.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter TWs in end notes

When Richie opens his eyes, he expects to see Eddie above him. Smiling, maybe. Relieved. Safe. He isn’t prepared for the  _ blood _ .

He’d finally been regaining consciousness, loosening up and returning to the world, but his whole body tenses as he sees something sharp protruding from Eddie’s shoulder. Eddie doesn’t even react, doesn’t scream; it’s as if he doesn’t even register it. Richie has to whisper his name, just to see if it’s real, to see if Eddie can even hear him.

The whimper he gets in return makes his chest ache. 

He tries to respond, he  _ does _ , but no words come out of his open mouth. All that accomplishes is allowing blood-  _ Eddie’s blood _ \- to seep onto his tongue. The taste makes him sick.

Richie finally regains his voice in the form of a cracked yell as Eddie is ripped away from him. He sits up and tries weakly to stop it, but of course he can’t do anything; he just woke up and he’s disoriented and horrified and  _ helpless _ but by god he wants to try. Arm outstretched, he watches in absolute horror as Eddie is tossed through the air like a ragdoll.

The sound his body makes as it hits the cement of the sidewalk across the street is nauseating.

Unsurprisingly, Richie’s stomach begins to churn. Does he want to peek over the side of the crumbling wall to see where Eddie landed, to see the aftermath? Does he want to see what’s happening down there? 

And then, suddenly, it’s hard to see anything. Richie’s vision starts to swim as he even thinks about it. 

It’s always been one of his strengths honestly, to keep things together in battle. He’d always had a pretty strong stomach- happily attributed to eating worms as a kid- and he’d always been able to handle the tougher situations; the messier and gorier things that had Ben lurching and Stan turning his head. But now, knowing Eddie was on the other end of it, he genuinely fears he might pass out. 

Maybe it’s not because of the gore, though. Maybe he’s just scared shitless.

He already lost Eddie once. 

He can’t handle that again.

The world seems to slow as Richie sits up, his head pounding almost as hard as his heart. The scene unfolding in front of him helps nothing; his friends, his  _ team _ are risking their lives, scrambling to do everything possible to stop this thing.

This thing.  _ Robert Gray. _

They’d handled villains before. Bad ones, even. Monstrous people, greedy and violent people, and some just misunderstood. But never had they gone up against an enemy like this. Never had they faced something so completely  _ inhuman _ .

He’s snapped out of his thoughts as Mike screams, swept aside by one of the monster’s limbs. Bill races after him, and Stan is struck from the sky with another limb while the former two are distracted.

Richie doesn’t have to look to know that Eddie is injured.  _ Bad _ . And who knows how long it’ll be before one of the others faces the same fate?

Finally, he wills himself up, and uses his power to maneuver down to the ground. He wants to fight, to take a stand, but for a moment his mind is on one person and one person only.

He only stumbles a bit once he lands on the cracked sidewalk, but his eyes are on Eddie before he even hits the ground.

Eddie… lying there as broken as the ground below him.

He’s unconscious- and nothing more, because Richie can’t handle the thought that it could be anything more than just that. Unconscious, and that’s it. But the blood…  _ fuck _ , the blood…

Eddie’s previously grey suit is darkened by the substance, the fabric completely torn at his shoulder blade where he was pierced. Richie inches closer, and he’s scared of what he’ll find.

An image pops into his head of Eddie at the tender age of eleven, after a spat with Bowers landed him with a broken arm. He remembers the way his bone stuck out, and he remembers feeling similarly panicked at the sight. 

Eddie was awake then, though. Hell, he was  _ laughing _ in the face of it, back then. He’d always been strong; invincible, in Richie’s eyes.

His eyes are closed now, and Richie notices some more cuts and bruises littering his body. The worst though, by far, is the wreckage at his shoulder. Richie doesn’t look close enough to see bone, but he can see the torn muscle and skin that looks no better.

“Oh, god, Eds…” he murmurs. Or, maybe, pleads. To whom, he’s not entirely sure.

Richie leans down beside him, his hands working to lay Eddie flat. Without even thinking, he presses the button on his bracelet, deactivating his uniform and leaving him back into his regular clothes- including a jacket. He makes quick work of it as he nearly rips it off himself to stop the bleeding. It’s not much, but it’s something.

Eddie doesn’t say anything. Richie shouldn’t be surprised.

“You’re gonna be fine, okay? Just gotta- jus’ gotta stop the bleeding…” he mumbles.

It’s not the easiest thing in the world to maneuver, but Richie manages to wrap his jacket around Eddie’s torn shoulder and put a bit of pressure on it. He doesn’t know if it’ll even help, but it’s better than nothing.

He’s vaguely aware of the tumultuous battle still happening behind him, the shouts indicating that his team is struggling, and that they may even be hurt too. They’re tired, he’s sure, and soon enough some of their powers will be weakened.

And that’s just what It wants, isn’t it?

It wants them weak. It wants them tired, It wants them helpless. It wants them  _ scared _ .

Robert Gray told Richie he likes the fear.

Richie’s gaze shifts briefly from Eddie to the battlefield, and it’s just as chaotic as he’d expected. Mike is bleeding from his arm, Stan too. Ben looks like he got cut on his stomach at some point.

_ This is never gonna stop, is it?  _ He thinks to himself. 

_ He’s not going to stop until he’s won.  _

_ Until we’re all dead. _

Robert Gray knows a lot about their group of heroes. He knows many of their weaknesses. But, if he’d thought Richie’s power was simply forcefields, then he obviously hadn’t done all his research.

So, maybe, he has a chance.

Richie takes a last, heartbroken look at Eddie’s form, bleeding and collapsed on the ground, before he leans back on his heels.

“I’ll be back for you, Eds. I promise.”

As he stands, he presses the button on his bracelet, calling his uniform back on. 

Usually, he doesn’t like to do this. In his training days, he decided along with his teachers that it was too dangerous, too risky. Hell, even as he brought the Agency’s building down, it was only with about half the power he had.

Force. 

That’s the official name for his Ability. It’s a physics thing, mostly.  _ Coercion. Compulsion. Strength. _ Force can change the motion of an object. It’s seen through gravity, it’s seen through physical work, it’s seen through guns and grenades and explosions. It’s a pretty powerful thing.

Richie usually concentrates his into a solid field. 

But he can do so much more, when he lets himself.

Like before, he concentrates on the hum in his body, letting his power take control. His eyes glow a deep indigo, the same color as his fields. His whole body shimmers the same color, just slightly.

And, it only strengthens as he walks into the street.

Pennywise notices him almost immediately. With a jeering grin, the monster locks eyes with Richie.

“ **_Welcome back to the show,_ ** ” It growls, raising up one of Its bloodied limbs.

Richie realizes with rising fury that it’s the same one that stabbed Eddie.

The monster launches the limb at him, but Richie is faster. The field he summons to stop It is strong- but, the Force he uses to send Pennywise careening backwards is stronger. Cars and lamp posts surrounding the area are crushed around them by leftover force. Windows that hadn’t been broken before blash out of their frames, and every nearby building shakes on its foundation.

“Welcome to the Loser’s Club, asshole!”

* * *

Eddie wakes up, sore and unsure of where he is.

He remembers rushing into a building, and being thrown back. Richie… The deadlights, he has to get to- wait. Wait, no, more happened after that.

His shoulder, fuck, something bad happened there for sure. It's throbbing and warm and shooting arrows of pain without Eddie even moving. His ribs aren't much better off, feeling battered and bruised.

He doesn't open his eyes yet, but he listens to his surroundings.

"-need to fall back,  _ now _ !"

Bill, Eddie thinks.

"We need all of us to defeat It!"

Mike?

“-too much output, he’s gonna destroy the whole fucking city  _ and _ himself with us-”

Stan?

There’s a deep rumble, something akin to an earthquake. Eddie thinks briefly of Ben, assuming he’s moving the ground.

Something shrieks.  _ It _ . There’s another rumble, and something crumbles next to him. Part of a building, most likely.

Finally, he attempts to open his eyes.

It takes a bit of effort. His body is screaming at him to rest, to go back to sleep, his energy having been drained from using so much of it in the blast and being injured. His body is surely working overtime just to make sure he doesn’t bleed out or something.

Blood.

That’s one of the first things he sees. It  _ covers _ his suit, as well as another soaked piece of fabric tied around his shoulder. He doesn’t remember how it got there, but it smells familiar. Comforting.

He shifts his gaze past himself, then. Ben and Bill are facing the battle, but slowly moving back. Bev and Mike are closer to the heat of it; Eddie keeps following the trail of his friends. Stan flies through the air, landing somewhere near Ben presumably. And lastly-

_ Holy shit. _

_ Richie _ .

He’s right up front, right in the thick of everything, but he’s different than anything Eddie expects. The intense glow surrounding him reminds Eddie of his own Ability, though the power he’s emitting is something stronger than he’d ever seen before- besides maybe the monster they’re all currently trying to fight.

He's stronger than Eddie expected. But he's as brave as Eddie knew he'd be.

As he shifts his head a bit to try and get a better look at things, a searing pain courses through his body. Where it comes from, he can't entirely tell; his shoulder is pretty shot, but his ribs very well may be broken, likely in multiple places. He almost passes out again, and probably would have if his Ability wasn't working hard to keep him alive.

Eddie stops trying to move, and Richie leaves his field of vision as he lets his head fall back against the hard ground.

Something happens, though, because there’s a really,  _ really _ bright light all of a sudden.

“BEV!” Multiple voices yell.

Eddie winces as he turns his head, more pain shooting throughout his body with the sudden movement. But, what he sees might be even worse.

Beverly floats in the air now, the same lifeless position Richie had just been in only minutes ago- well, what he thinks was only minutes ago, it could be hours for all he knows. While crashing, explosive noises erupt from where Eddie knows Richie is still fighting It, the effect of the Deadlights doesn’t seem to let up. 

Eddie knows the fear, horror, and helplessness Ben feels without having to look at his face. But, a glance at his heartbroken expression says it all.

Despite pleas from multiple people, nothing happens. Beverly is stuck mid-air while the rumbling in the distance grows louder. Ben is able to shift the ground up enough so he can reach her, but even as she’s in his arms, she’s limp. 

Eddie wants to be able to help. He wants to blast that thing again, hard enough that It doesn’t come back. Hard enough so It  _ can’t _ come back. 

As he tries to activate his Ability though, nothing happens besides a slight flicker in his arms. His energy is in no state where he can use it; it’s all concentrated on keeping his wounds from killing him.

It’s unsettling to say the least, being stuck on the ground while the surrounding buildings creak. Eddie would swear he could even see them sway, just a bit- though, maybe that’s just the blood loss. 

He’s vaguely aware of Ben reforming the ground again, the concrete shifting under him as he gets Beverly away from danger. They’re both down now; Ben certainly won’t leave her side, not while she’s catatonic. 

Bill surges forward with a battle cry, taking with him some shards of glass and fallen debris as weapons in the air. Eddie doesn’t see exactly what happens next, but he hears something clatter to the ground, and menacing laughter. 

Mike calls out Bill’s name, but there’s silence. 

Silence. Until Bill screams, “GET OUT, GET OUT, GET OUT GET OUT OF MY HEAD GET OUT OF MY FUCKING HEAD!”

Eddie’s confused for a moment, since It obviously hadn’t taken Bill’s Ability… then, he remembers Georgie used to have a similar one. 

Bill keeps screaming until it turns to sobs, until it mixes with Mike’s attempts to calm him, until Mike has to wrap him in vines and drag him away so he doesn’t run headfirst into a dangerous situation without thinking.

Like Richie did.

There’s more thunderous rumbling. Eddie feels it in the ground, in the air, he hears it all around him. Interesting, he thinks, if he dies crushed by a building rather than from his arm being nearly torn off.

So, it’s just Richie and Stan now. Eddie can’t see either of them, so he lets his eyes slip shut. That should conserve some energy, right? 

His ears pick up more, though. More rumbling, more crashing- and more yelling. This time, it’s from Stan. 

“Richie, you need to fall back like Bill said!”

Richie doesn’t respond, but the creature roars, and Eddie thinks he can smell smoke. More buildings in their various states of destruction, he presumes.

“RICHIE!” Stan tries again. And again. And once more. Still nothing besides the sound of a fight. “YOU CAN’T DO THIS ALONE!”

And then, a skidding sound. Eddie forces his eyes open enough that he can see an indigo haze somewhere in the midst of the debris and ruins. 

He keeps going.

“If you keep going like this your power is gonna tear you  _ and _ the whole fucking city apart!” 

He keeps going.

“As long as it tears this motherfucker apart too.”

He keeps going.

Eddie doesn’t think he’s ever heard Richie’s voice so low and utterly menacing. So rarely has he ever cast the games aside and gotten serious. Even in dire situations, he’d always been the first to break the tension. 

He’s not breaking any tension anymore.

The ambition though; that determination is nothing new, not in the slightest. Richie has always been the person to keep going. If he has a strong dream or belief, no matter how extreme, he’s never been easily swayed from it.

It’s something that made Eddie fall in love with him.

It’s also something that might end up killing him.

“Ri...ch-” Eddie croaks. He’s too overwhelmed by exhaustion to even finish his name.

He passes out again not long after.

…

And then he wakes up with a start.

He jumps, heart picking up much too quickly as he feels a hand on his face. He hopes, for a moment, that it’s Richie’s. He hopes it means this whole thing is over.

It’s not Richie’s hand, Eddie realizes. As he opens his eyes, he sees a woman in front of him that he doesn’t recognize, with blonde hair and a familiar-looking suit on.

“Hey,” she says softly. “You’ll be okay, just stay still.”

There’s some sort of commotion in the background, but the woman’s hands keep Eddie’s face from turning to look.

He can hear more voices, more footsteps, and he can hear the telltale clicks of support weapons.

As he’s about to ask what’s happening, the woman lightly slaps his cheek.

“Stop that, what did I say about staying still? Geez…”

That doesn’t deter Eddie. She needs to know, she’s in danger and everyone here is in danger, Richie’s doing god knows what and there’s a mad-scientist-turned-evil-clown-monster destroying the fucking city, and maybe Richie’s already been hurt and that’s why they’re here, and this monster is a doctor and-

“Shh, it’s okay. I know everything. You need to stay still so I can do my job here, bub.”

Mind reader?

“Not a mind reader,” she continues. “Just good at reading people. I suspected he was up to something for a while now, but no one believed me… wish I met you sooner, Photon. Would’ve been a lot easier than running around playing detective until I could find Commander Maturin.”

He makes a strained noise of confusion, eyebrows upturned.

“Oh, apologies, forgot my manners, love. I’m Patty. Or, well,” she looks off to the side for a moment, shrugging casually. “Detective Blum, officially, but between you an’ me, I like Patty better- stay still!”

She has to scold Eddie again, because once again he tries to break free. He’s not entirely sure how he feels strong enough to do that, but he’s pleasantly surprised that as she slaps his face again, his body isn’t in agonizing pain.

“I’m a healer, and if you wanna win this fight you’re gonna need to stay! Still!” She emphasizes her words, and Eddie listens this time. He lets his head fall back against the pavement, equal amounts frustrated and wanting to hear more. 

She’s quiet, though, at least for a few moments. Her eyes shut as her hands move down, one resting on Eddie’s ribs and the other settling lightly over his ruined shoulder. 

“You were banged up bad. Gotta be honest, I don’t know how you survived that fall, let alone with your arm how it is,” she mumbles as she works.

Eddie takes a deep breath that doesn’t hurt as much as he expects. 

“My… Ability,” he groans, but Patty just looks confused. “Energy. Body heals.”

It’s enough that she must get it, since she nods. 

“That’s quite a power. I knew it was strong, but jeepers!” A laugh rumbles through Eddie’s chest in response, making Patty’s grin fall. “Hey!” She adds. “You still got a lot more healin’ to do, mister!” She pauses for a moment then, taking a breath. “This is… this might be a lil’ difficult, hon. You got some broken bones that need to set, so just try an’ breathe, okay?”

Eddie nods.

But he’s not prepared for the  _ cracking _ he hears a moment later.

His body jolts on its own, eyes, hands, and jaw all clenching shut as he feels the bones in his ribs rearranging themselves.

He passes out again.

… 

This time, when he wakes up, it’s not to excruciating pain. In a pleasantly unexpected twist, he actually feels… energized? He sits up with some stiffness, especially in his shoulder, but no pain. Patty is on the ground beside him though, and she looks about ready to pass out.

She answers before he can ask.

“My Ability lets me heal people, but it zaps my body’s energy when I gotta do jobs like that.” Her voice sounds weakened- no, more like tired, like someone fighting off a nap. 

Now that Eddie is cognizant enough to actually think, he notices where he recognizes her uniform from. She did say she was a detective; her suit is similar to that of ATF agents, and it bears the symbol of Richie’s agency. 

(Eddie’s always thought it looked a bit like a turtle shell.)

Before he can say anything further, ask a question or offer to help, another agency officer comes to them.

No, not officer- commander.

She carries an air of confidence. Certainty. Eddie doesn’t even work for her, but he certainly feels like he should listen to her as she approaches.

Once in front of the two, the woman offers her hand to Patty, telling her she did well. Another officer comes up to them, wraps an arm around her, and escorts her to safety. Eddie’s able to mutter out a weak thank you as she walks away, to which she simply smiles in return.

And then it’s just Eddie, and the commander that he doesn’t need to ask a name for. She offers him a hand, and he takes it, pulling himself to his feet.

“I’m not sure how your Ability works, but I need it to start workin’ now,” she says. “I’m assuming Patty told you that we know what was goin’ on.”

Eddie nods.

“I guess you’re Commander Maturin…?” He ventures.

She nods in return.

“Sure am. I’ve had my eye on Gray for a while now, but I never expected this… I don’t have any Ability that can stop him.” The look in her eye is serious, something that seems to pin Eddie where he stands. She keeps eye contact as she continues. “But  _ you _ do. So I need to know how you can get as much power as possible in you.”

Eddie’s mind blanks for a moment as something crashes behind them. He turns his head to look, but Maturin’s hands reorient him to face her until he answers.

“I uh- emotions. And physical uh, physical energy but, I think Patty took care of that…”

Maturin nods, appearing to contemplate Eddie’s answer.

Eddie wants to leave. He’s thankful that someone else knows what’s happening, and that they healed him and all that. But he can still hear the beast roaring, and Richie risking his life. He needs to get back out there.

“Listen,” she says, her voice again low and solemn. “Tozier’s Ability is strong. His Force can do a lot, but when unchecked it can corrupt him. If anything’s going to destroy the city right now, it’s him.”

Eddie’s heart stops. Maturin continues.

“Gray anticipated everyone’s weaknesses. Taking Marsh out got Hanscom out too, same with Denbrough an’ Hanlon. He probably thought takin’ you out of the picture would get Tozier out too.”

It’s too much information all at once. Eddie’s body is screaming at him to run, his mind is screaming at him to figure out what the fuck it means that Richie’s Abiltiy could  _ corrupt him _ , and his heart is screaming at him that it doesn’t matter; the only thing he needs to do is save Richie from that thing. And… now, maybe himself, too.

“Now that Tozier’s gone full force, he needs a cooldown. But he also needs your Ability to help him. Uris is good, but his wings can’t give enough power,” she explains.

Eddie’s learned to question everything in this agency, but for some reason, he doesn’t question her. It’s as if some part of him knows, inherently, that she wouldn’t lie to him.

“Truth. My Ability is finding and spreading truth. Reality. I can see the paths of action needed for a certain goal. And for us to win, Kaspbrak, we’re gonna need both someone who can connect with Tozier, and someone who can match his power. That’s the only way we can finish what needs to be done,” she says with finality.

“Which is…?”

Maturin doesn’t miss a beat.

“Destroy Robert Gray.”

As she speaks, another explosion echoes in the background. She places a steady hand on his shoulder, and spares one last intense glance into Eddie’s eyes. 

“Go.”

They turn to fight their respective battles at the same time.

Eddie’s not sure where she goes, but he knows what he has to do. 

* * *

Rage.

Fear.

Grief.

Hopelessness.

Determination.

Is it possible to feel it all at once, and maybe more? Philosophically debatable, of course, but each of those feelings is another sharp arrow piercing through Richie’s chest.

_ Eddie. _ Lying helpless and bleeding on a sidewalk.

_ Bev _ . Stuck in that god awful trance. 

_ Ben. Mike.  _ Feeling the same arrows Richie is.

_ Bill _ . Tortured by the Ability of his own dead brother.

It was Richie, originally, that the creature had captured. Richie was supposed to be the one in danger. So now, he’s making up for the trouble.

He knows what flows through his veins is destructive, emanating from his body in deceivingly pleasant indigo waves that could crush anything they come into contact with; lamp posts, mail boxes, windows, cars, buildings.

People.

And, hopefully, monsters.

Because that’s what he’s facing; not a person, but a monster. A killer. Someone who feeds on fear and  _ likes it _ . Someone who fucking… someone who hurt...

Eddie.

Richie screams. Or maybe he sobs. Maybe both, for all he knows. Pennywise is speaking, taunting, but it’s just noise compared to the racing, horrible thoughts in Richie’s mind.

_ He’s bleeding out. _

_ He’s dead. You didn’t get him out of there. _

_ You should’ve taken care of him first. You left him. _

_ You love him. And he’s dying. _

With the shout comes another burst of Force, stopping two of the monster’s spider-like limbs from attacking him. The runoff from the collision crumples another car, blows out another building’s window, but Richie doesn’t care. Hell, it should be stronger, he should let himself be stronger.

_ It won’t hurt _ , he thinks.  _ It won’t hurt to let go, just a little more… _

As he prepares another burst, something else beats him to it.

A blast of something, bright and strong, aimed at the same appendages Richie had just struck. This time though, the monster reels back with a pained screech. It pulls back and Richie can see the tendrils burnt, so bad in places that they disintegrate. 

He doesn’t have to turn around to find the source, because Eddie takes the space next to him not a moment later. His suit is bloody and torn, especially around his shoulder, but he’s…

He’s whole. He’s in one piece. He’s okay.

_ He’s alive. _

Where Richie clearly remembers a gaping hole, there’s just skin now. Skin of Eddie’s beautiful, perfect arm, has there ever been a more perfect arm? A more perfect shoulder? Richie doesn’t think so.

Richie knows it’s a stupid thing to do, since they’re literally on the battlefield, but his body moves before he can stop it to wrap Eddie in the tightest hug he can manage. It lasts only for a few moments, because they both know better than to cuddle when something evil is  _ right there _ , but it’s everything Richie needs to keep going- and to settle the power threatening to lose control inside him.

“How did you- I thought I-” Richie babbles, trying to find the right words. He’s used to having too much to say, so much that it gets jumbled in his mind, and now is no different.

“I’ll tell you everything later Rich, right now-”

Eddie’s cut off by one of the unburnt appendages crashing in front of them, missing them by only inches. Richie silently thanks his Ability for working to keep him safe, even when he’s distracted.

Shifting his attention, Richie focuses his power into one solid forcefield, using it to keep the monster at bay for a moment before shooting it forward- and, subsequently, shooting Pennywise backwards. 

“Right now we need to kill this fucking clown,” Richie finishes for Eddie.

He notices a glow around them, akin to the indigo haze of Richie’s Force. It’s the same brightness of Eddie’s blasts, the same energy he carried when he fearlessly hopped off a fucking roof to try and keep Richie safe. It’s something strong, powerful, and it makes Richie think that maybe… maybe there’s a way they can destroy this thing.

As they avoid another strike, Eddie sends a blast of energy towards It, keeping It away from them for now.

“He has at least three other Abilities in there besides Deadlights and Telepathy,” Eddie explains as he takes a defensive stance. 

Richie tries to crush some of Its limbs with force, get them out of the way, but It wards him off.

“Care to share, Edward?” He yells.

Eddie grunts as he avoids another attack.

“Shapeshifting- obviously! Strength, and uh-” He’s cut off as the crushed remnants of a car beside him burst into flames. “Combustion! Or burning or something- this shit!” He gestures to the flames beside him.

Richie drags his hands down his face. "Motherfucker," he mumbles to himself. As the creature starts to crawl closer again, Richie lets out a burst of his power to keep It back. “So this thing can burn shit too?” He yells to Eddie, hands outstretched in front of him. "What the  _ fuck _ do we do against something packing like, five Abilities in one?!"

Almost as if a response, a blinding beam shoots from Eddie’s direction to Pennywise, resulting in a loud howl of pain. Well, that’s certainly one way to go about it.

“We’re just gonna have to beat It down as best we can!” Eddie yells in response as he dodges a cinder block thrown his way. Not a second later, Richie blocks one heading towards him too.

“There’s definitely a ‘beating your meat’ joke in there somewhere!”

“Can you  _ not _ say that shit while we’re fighting for our fucking lives, please?!”

What can Richie say; shitty jokes boost his energy. Or maybe, mildly annoying Eddie boosts his energy. He could swear that’s the real root of his power.

(Or maybe, it’s the creation of something lighthearted in a life-threatening situation which makes him feel a little more in control, and allows his power to shine.)

He and Eddie continue like this for a while, holding their own against the monstrosity of an enemy they're facing.

Richie's Force is strong, shaking buildings with every movement. He's gained control over it now; with Eddie by his side, it's easy to channel his power into a manageable strength. It serves as something destructive, but also as the solid defense he's learned to build up over the years.

Eddie's energy is equally strong; Richie knew it from their very first battle. His forcefields are nearly impossible to break, but if anyone had ever come close, it's Eddie. All of his emotions, all of his years being trapped and all of the good and the bad in him, all of it is channeled into each blast in a way that seems effortless. And, after all he's been through, maybe it is. Either way though, it packs one hell of a punch.

And then there's the monster they face. Robert Gray is a cunning man; his job, after all, was to research. Richie had always thought he was a bit of a wackjob, but a smart one at that. 

Richie strikes, Pennywise strikes, Eddie strikes, Richie defends, Pennywise defends, Eddie defends, repeat. It's almost cyclical.

And Richie remembers, as he stops a combination of flame and debris from hitting him, that Robert Gray hadn't known the full extent of his power.

He likely hadn't known Eddie's either, which was to be expected. But Richie, as a member of the agency, had everything about him easily accessible to almost the entire research department. The doctor could have read up on him at any time and discovered the ins and outs of his Ability.

But he hadn't.

And he hadn't used Georgie's Ability on them, the power to enter their minds. He’d used it a little on Bill, but not since. He could've stopped the two in their tracks with that if he wanted to.

Or,  _ had he been able to. _

A being with five Abilities. How does a being with five strong Abilities not immediately win against a mere two heroes? Richie realizes the answer as a column of flames misses them. Or, well, he  _ guesses _ it, but he's pretty sure he's right.

Robert Gray doesn't beat them with five Abilities, because he doesn’t know how to use them.

Robert Gray doesn't beat them with five Abilities because he thought sheer power was all he needed, because he thought skill was overrated and all he needed was some brute force. 

Robert Gray didn't do his fucking research.

Richie’s face splits into a grin as he realizes what a high ground they have over him. If this thing could only use base powers- and not well- he could be taken down easily. Well, hopefully. 

“EDS, HOLY FUCK!” He shrieks gleefully.

Eddie turns to him while he’s in the air, and Richie feels bad for a moment for the look of terror on his face. Regardless, Eddie maneuvers himself to land next to him.

“You fucking asshole, I thought you were hurt!”

Together, they dodge a limb as it threatens to crash on top of them, running to the nearest refuge they can find.

“No no, listen!” Richie continues once they’re safely sheltered behind what used to be a building. “He doesn’t know how to use the Abilities he stole!”

“What?”

“That’s why- why he hasn’t fucking used them! He basically has Bill’s power, he only used it once and he hasn’t even tried with us!” 

Eddie’s eyebrows screw up on his face, like he’s trying to piece something together.

“That explains… When I saw him taking the Deadlights, he was interrogating Shellshock to figure out how to use it. I figured- I thought he was just trying to get more information but-”

“He didn’t do the research in the first place!” Richie finishes for him. “He was relying on raw power, not skill. We don’t have to keep worrying about keeping our distance.”

Eddie’s breaths are heavy; Richie’s too, honestly. They’ve both been making sure to stay far enough away to avoid a deadly attack by any of the five Abilities, and they’ve definitely been overusing their own Abilities in the process.

“So what-” Eddie begins, but he’s interrupted as he nearly jumps out of his own skin. Something rams against the wall from the outside, likely one of those god forsaken claws that seem to be the only form of attack It uses.

“Where did you go? Why don’t you come and play?” It drawls, voice… well, nasty. It’s gravelly and loud and unsettling and Richie hates every second he has to hear it.

“What can we do? I don’t fucking know. I could trap It in a field, but I don’t know what good that would do-” Richie continues.

They’re interrupted again, another crash against the already crumbling wall. Eddie’s silent for a moment as the debris settles around them.

“I blasted It before and got you out of the Deadlights, so maybe I could do it again but... “ He trails off.

Richie raises his eyebrows, gesturing wildly to prompt him for more. “But? But what?!”

Eddie shrugs sharply and almost defensively as he continues. “I’d need to use too much power! I mean- I mean it’s not an exact science but I don’t know- I don’t know if I can keep it contained to just hurt him and no one else!”

The wall behind them rumbles again with an attack, and it’s obvious that the structure won’t last much longer.

But they don’t need much longer. Richie’s eyes widen as he hatches a plan that might actually fucking work.

“Eds-” Another crash interrupts him, but he keeps going. “Eds I think I have an idea. It’s not gonna be easy but I don’t think we have a lot of other options.”

Eddie nods, and listens.

* * *

When they emerge from their refuge, it’s not cinematic. It’s not a slow-mo moment, it’s not walking confidently onto the battlefield; it’s a frenzy. 

Richie runs as fast as he can go, a field around him for protection as he tries to lure Its attention away from Eddie. Eddie stays hidden for another few moments, waiting until he hears the telltale thumping of Its grotesque limbs before he takes to the air. 

“It’s about time!” The monster booms. “I was getting bored… but if you needed the time to cultivate a little  _ fear _ …” It drones, trailing off into cacophonous laughter.

Eddie draws Its attention away by aiming a shot behind It, and it works. Pennywise follows the blast with his eyes, which gives the heroes time to reconvene.

It’s two on one, then.

Five untrained Abilities versus two, cultivated and grown over years of training.

Years of being trapped in a room and sedated.

Years of being kept in a facility and trained to fight.

Years of longing, of struggle, of being blocked from  _ living _ . 

Eddie lands beside Richie at the same moment Richie sends Pennywise careening backwards. This plan requires distance between them and the enemy.

It also requires perfect coordination, perfect synchronization. But, isn’t that how it’s always been with them? Always on the same wavelength, from their jokes to their fights. Always culminating in perfect balance; energy and force, offense and defense, light and dark. 

Together losers.

And together, lovers.

The two share a look, both of them saying the same thing without words.

_ We need to do this together. _

They stand side by side, hands close enough to touch. And, maybe they do, brushing together for just a moment before they raise their hands in unison.

“You think you can-” The beast ahead of them starts to speak, but It’s cut off. Drowned out.  _ Made small _ .

Energy bursts from one outstretched hand, and Force from the other. They travel alongside each other, perfect harmony concentrated into two beams. The brighter beam begins to spread into a destructive force, while the darker encloses it with a protective energy.

Richie concentrates everything he has on surrounding Pennywise and keeping Eddie’s power enclosed, contained, safe.

Eddie concentrates everything into his power; everything he’s ever felt, all of his experiences, all of his pain and anguish and  _ love _ and  _ laughter _ pours out alongside Richie’s hand.

Richie’s force field surrounds Eddie’s energy at the precise moment Eddie allows it to explode in a magnificent sunburst. 

A supernova.

It shrieks.

The light is intense, almost blinding on its own; but the calming indigo of Richie’s field tones it down, and together they can see as the movement inside the confines begins to fade.

Maybe it’s seconds. Maybe it’s minutes. Neither hero leaves the other’s side; neither hero will break synchronization until they’re sure there’s nothing left, or until they’ve exhausted their power.

Each one feels like they might burst at any given second; but it’s not bad. Because, no matter what, they’re with each other, and they’re fighting to the bitter fucking end. 

The shrieking dies down as the monster inside dies too. It loses power, size, strength, as It loses the battle.

Fear.

Grief.

Hopelessness.

It all disappears as the monster fades into oblivion, as Eddie’s energy dissipates and Richie’s field breaks, and is replaced with the almost overwhelming feeling of unity. 

And then it’s done.

What’s left, physically, is a pile of dust in front of the heroes. Things are quiet besides the faint crumbling of ruined buildings, the clatter of glass from a few shattered windows, and the panting from the two who saved it all.

Second by second, more voices start to emerge; murmurs from behind them, shouts in the distance, but it falls on deaf ears as Richie and Eddie look at each other instead.

Their gaze lasts only a moment, but it says everything they need to say.

_ I love you _ . And, at the same time,  _ I know. _

Their powers, bodies, and minds are exhausted, and as they finally pass out from it all, they fall into each other's arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW:  
> -Depictions of violence  
> -Serious injury  
> -Description of serious injury  
> -blood loss  
> -Passing out/fainting  
> -Emotional distress  
> \----
> 
> Ahhh!! Please let me know your thoughts on this chapter! It took about a week longer than I wanted but I'm pretty happy with how it came out. Next chapter will be the last and wrap things up! And as always please feel free to talk to me on tumblr or insta, or my twitter if you're 18+!!


	12. Heroes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys have some thinking to do.

Richie wakes up first.

There’s a lot in his brain that he can only describe as fog. The first thing he realizes is that he’s not in his bed, and the second thing is that he’s not in Eddie’s bed either. Then, the memories start to come back to him.

Robert- no, Pennywise. Whatever he’d become, It was a monster. And, It was defeated, he thinks?

Hopefully.

The soft beeping in the room helps clue him in that he’s likely in a hospital. He doesn’t remember much after he and Eddie faced off against that crazy bastard, he doesn’t really even remember how the fight went. All he can do is hope that they won.

Well, that, and hope that Eddie is okay too.

_ Eddie… _

Images of his bruised and bloodied body flash through Richie’s mind before he can stop them, the memories like a slap to the face. No, more like a punch, or maybe a brick to the face; either way, absolutely crushing.

It hurts, but Richie forces his eyes open. If Eddie’s alive, he’d probably be in the same room, right? Or at least the same floor? He ignores the fast-paced beeping of the monitor beside him as he tries to get up- but, the nurses don’t seem to share his attitude. He hears moderately panicked voices, but none of it matters to him as he looks around the room.

Gentle hands hold him to the hospital bed, which isn’t entirely unwelcome. Before Richie can make anything out, all he sees is  _ bright _ lights, reflecting on the white walls and nearly blinding him. There’s a good chance he would’ve fallen right off the bed anyway, had he not been held down.

The telltale clacking of heels joins the ruckus too, and soon after, a soothing voice.

“Shh, relax hon, your friend is fine,” a voice coos. “He’s restin’ on the other side of the room. I helped heal you both up but you still need to regain your strength!”

It’s a welcome contrast to the panicky nurses around him, honestly. This voice is almost chipper, and if anyone can appreciate that in a not-so-chipper situation, it’s Richie.

As he lays back down, prompting the two others to finally step away from him, he’s able to get a good look at the source of the sound; a blonde woman, soft smile on her face and the Agency logo on her blazer.

Richie’s first instinct upon seeing it is to run- god knows how many people in the agency had been corrupt or even working with Gray- but the genuine concern on her face makes him think twice.

(It’s very rare that something makes Richie ignore an impulse and think twice).

She sits on a chair next to his bed, looking almost as tired as he feels; her hair is a mess, her face pale, and she looks like she needs a hospital bed more so than Richie does. She sighs as she slumps down onto it, a hand running down her face.

“Don’ think I met you officially, yet. Haven’t seen you since my orientation tour, I think,” she starts, and Richie does think he recognizes her, now that she mentions it. “Detective Blum- ugh, that’s so official- anyways, I healed your friend back over on the battlefield. He’s got one hell of a spark, I’ll tell you that. He’s an easy heal though, what with that Ability a’ his.  _ You- _ ” She shoots a pointed glare to Richie’s eyes, “on the other hand, drained the life outta me! Hell, you weren’t even badly injured an’ I almost passed out healin’ you back up!”

Huh. Richie isn’t the type of guy who’s normally quiet while others ramble, but for now he doesn’t think he minds. He takes in each word she says, trying to piece together some sort of picture.

“You healed us?”

Oh, god damn. His voice is way more croaky than he’d expected, and he cringes as the sound hits his ears. Patty chuckles.

“Don’t strain your voice too badly. Here,” she reaches to the bedside table, where a bottle of water sits that might as well be the holy fucking grail. Richie snatches it impolitely, but he doesn’t care; Patty raises her eyebrows in amusement. “Wow, I see you’re healin’ up fine then. Guess my job here’s done.”

Richie wants to share her lighthearted tone, but he’s too preoccupied shoving the elixir of the gods (sweet, sweet cold water) down his throat. Once most of the bottle is gone, he lets himself breathe, and he’s grateful that Patty doesn’t seem to mind his shit manners.

His mind can’t help but wander again, though. He keeps seeing blood in his brain, hearing the strained way Eddie called his name before he was flung away from him… Richie can’t help but worry.

“Eds- how’s-”

“He’s okay, relax,” Patty finishes for him. “Like I said, he’s an easy heal. But he uses his own energy too, y’know? ‘Cause that Ability of his. Healin’ you up was all me. Healin’ him was a joint effort, so he’s probably exhausted.” 

That makes sense, he supposes. Eddie’s power has so much more to it than he’d ever imagined; but, then again, so does his own. It’s a comfort, though, knowing that Eddie’s body is working in his own favor to keep him safe when Richie obviously can’t be there to protect him.

But, as nice as that thought is, Richie also can’t shake the discomfort he has over not seeing Eddie in person, confirming to his eyes and his stupid brain and the rest of his senses that he’s okay.

Patty slumps further down in her chair, if that’s even possible. She looks like she’s gonna pass out any second. Which, honestly, doesn’t sound so bad…

Richie’s eyelids feel heavy despite the ever-present voice in his head telling him to make sure Eddie is okay.

He passes out not a minute later.

…

When he wakes up again, he first notices a new weight on his bed. He wonders if he had a nightmare maybe, and they had to restrain him to prevent trouble.

Secondly, he notices a pleasantly familiar scent.

When he blinks his eyes open, he can see that Patty is no longer in the chair next to his bed. It seems the rest of the room is empty, silent besides the quiet background droning of the hospital TV. He shifts his gaze to his other side then, and his heart picks up a quicker rhythm in his chest.

Eddie.

He’s asleep, eyes shut and face soft; he’s  _ alive _ . His face rests atop Richie’s chest, and Richie worries for a moment that his loud heartbeat will wake him. 

Just to be sure, Richie looks down, searching for the telltale rise and fall of Eddie’s chest too. It’s slow, gentle, calm, but it’s there. He really is okay, and Richie finally feels like he can breathe.

It’s second nature when Richie brings a hand up to card through Eddie’s hair. It’s dirty from battle, filled with knots, but it’s still nice. Hell, Richie’s longer hair is probably a thousand times worse. He doesn’t mind untangling a few mats, especially since he’s rewarded with Eddie subconsciously nuzzling a little closer to him.

He wonders when Eddie left his own bed to climb in beside Richie.

He wonders if Eddie had faced opposition from the nurses.

He wonders if Eddie had just been worried about him. 

When they were younger, this had been tradition. Sharing a hammock in their clubhouse, sharing a chair at Bill’s house, sharing a bed when one of them climbed through the other’s window for a secret sleepover. Richie doesn’t know when it stopped being platonic, but he knows it never stopped being comforting.

It’s comforting now, still.

Even if the monster hadn’t truly been defeated, if they had to go fight It again, if they had to face a corrupt agency and all the trouble in the world, at least they’re both okay right now. Alive, okay, and together.

Richie lets his head rest back on the hospital pillow while Eddie’s flyaway hairs tickle his chin. As he shuts his eyes, his ears pick up on two things; one being the soft puffs of breath from Eddie’s nose, and the other being what sounds like a news report on the soft-volumed hospital TV. He fully plans to ignore it in favor of sleep, but something catches his attention instead.

“-was stopped in a heated battle between known hero Forcefield, along with a new hero formerly known as the villain Photon. With us is Commander Maturin, presenting an official statement on the situation-”

Richie opens his eyes and focuses on the small screen ahead of them as the woman he’d only heard of appears on the screen. She’s dressed in the Agency’s formal wear, surrounded by a few agents he recognized- including the woman he met before, Patty. He’s not sure what channel is on, but the ‘breaking news’ scrolling across the bottom of the screen means it’s probably airing everywhere. Given the scale of the situation, several buildings having been evacuated and destroyed during the battle, Richie’s not surprised. 

He reaches his free arm out towards the table beside him, grappling for the remote to turn up the volume. At first, he ends up accidentally changing the channel instead, but he gets it eventually, pressing the button only a few times to make sure it’s not loud enough to wake Eddie.

As Commander Maturin begins to speak, Richie’s eyes are glued to the screen.

“A few weeks ago, my colleague,” she gestures to Patty, “discovered that an esteemed scientist in our agency had been conducting underground, illegal experimentation.” She pauses as the audience collectively gasps, but continues. Her words are sharp, no-nonsense, and right to the point. “We’re conducting an investigation into the extent of this activity, including agents that he coerced into aiding and abetting his crimes, and victims of his actions-”

Richie tunes out then, a little annoyed at the whole thing. He’s reminded how he knew about it likely before Patty did… he’s reminded that he didn’t do as much as he probably could have. He’s reminded of those kids…

“Before we discovered this situation, however, it seems someone else was already on it. We owe thanks to a new hero today. The series of agency break-ins experienced in the past months are the result of an individual investigation by the former vigilante, Photon… I hesitate calling him that, since his actions saved thousands. He was slandered and framed for a murder committed by our scientist, Robert Gray, the mastermind behind an operation that killed civilian children and heroes alike.” She pauses again, collecting her words. “And Photon kept fighting despite this. Sounds more like a hero to me than many already in this field... We’ve been able to access his compilations of records, and experts are currently investigating Robert Gray’s villainous trail. It was thanks to Photon’s Ability, as well as our own Forcefield’s, that the toll was not higher. Today, I’d like to thank our heroes.”

She continues then, commenting on the damages and more details on the investigation, but Richie is still stuck on it all… Eddie’s name cleared, the whole situation outed to the world, god, had people died? How many had been injured? Surely they hadn’t escaped casualties with a battle that big…

Oh god, the rest of his team...

He notices then that Eddie’s breathing pattern has changed. As he glances down, he sees that Eddie’s eyes are open now, gaze trained onto the TV. Richie’s glad that he doesn’t have to wonder whether it’s intentional when Eddie nuzzles a little closer against him.

“Did… she call me a…” he murmurs before trailing off. Richie can hear the exhaustion in his voice.

“A hero?” Richie finishes for him. Eddie shifts, his eyes darting upwards and locking with Richie’s. “Yeah. She did. I think it had a pretty nice ring to it, myself.”

Eddie’s eyes search Richie’s while the latter mentally wills his heart to stop thumping so damn hard in his chest- which, doesn’t work. Eddie can probably hear it through Richie’s hospital gown. In response, Eddie simply hums, returning his attention to the newscast. 

They both half-listen as Maturin finishes her speech.

They both fall asleep again not long after, settled comfortably in each others’ arms.

* * *

Eddie is granted another day of peace in the hospital; Richie, however, isn’t so lucky.

They’re both healed up with only some scars and some leftover sleepiness to show for it, which is nice, but Richie’s agency is getting all kinds of sued. It’s not out of the ordinary, especially with a fallout this huge, but while Eddie only has to give one statement, Richie evidently has to give ten. Maybe more; Eddie loses count.

He stays in his own bed, drifting in and out of sleep as he listens to Richie giving the same speech over and over. His voice is soothing, as it always is, but listening to him tell the story is… well, it’s kind of surreal. In Eddie’s tired state, it’s easy to wonder if the whole thing really happened, or if it was just some terrible dream; but, after hearing Richie confirm multiple times with a shaky voice that Eddie was, in fact, stabbed, and that they really had faced off against something as inhuman as ‘Pennywise’, he comes to terms with knowing his memories are true.

Eddie’s not sure exactly who was in charge of taking Richie’s statements- insurance companies or Agency people or maybe both, probably more- but they leave by nightfall, and their hospital room is empty again. They’re both staying one more night for observation, but are allowed to leave early in the morning.

For tonight, Eddie crawls into Richie’s too-small hospital bed again. 

It’s oddly nostalgic; despite the white walls and bleachy smell of the room, poorly covered by a lemon-scented room spray, the tiny twin bed reminds him of all the times they’d squeeze into each others’ beds as kids. Eddie remembers being ten, eleven, twelve, having a crush he didn’t quite understand yet, and loving nothing more than to squish himself against Richie’s lanky, bony body. It was uncomfortable and difficult to fit, it was full of accidental elbows to the face as both of them went through growth spurts, and it was in a bed that he very well could tumble out of at any time. But, he loved it anyway.

They’re older now, used to their bodies and used to their feelings, but Eddie still thinks it’s nice to be squished together like this. Richie’s noticeably bigger, his shoulders having filled out and muscle replacing what had once been mostly skin and bone; he has actual facial hair now, something Eddie’s stared at more than once since meeting up again; his voice had dropped and his jaw had squared, but his eyes are the same. His demeanor, his personality, the way he made Eddie feel; none of that had changed. Or, if it had, it had somehow been in a way that made Richie even  _ more _ Richie.

Once they’re flush against each other, Richie lets out a deep sigh. In the background, the TV continues to drone, but Richie had long since switched it from a news channel to the food network. Despite everything, it’s almost calming.

“Are they done with the fucking interrogations yet?” Eddie asks, his voice sharp but low enough in tone that it only garners a laugh in return.

“Who fuckin’ knows. They just want the story straight so they don’t have to deal with more lawsuits.” He pauses, shifting his body so Eddie can rest his head comfortably in the crook of his shoulder. “I think one of those interviews was for a story, though. You were asleep, but they were asking about the actual battle, not the shit leading up to it.”

Eddie hums in response.

It’s odd, having people curious about what he did… usually it was only Adrian who’d ever asked, and even then it was passing conversation. Not many people actually knew of his Ability, or his pastime playing hero at night, so it’s not like he’d been able to talk about it before.

“They’re curious about your Ability,” Richie adds.

Eddie huffs a laugh.

“Yeah, I’m sure they are. Think they’ll put me in a facility too?” He says without thinking, and immediately regrets it. “I’m- no, sorry, that was insensitive-”

Richie doesn’t seem shaken; in fact, Eddie feels his chest heave with a chuckle. 

“Yeah, those are my favorite jokes. What’s a shitty childhood if you can’t joke about it, am I right?”

Eddie contemplates it for a few moments before deciding Richie’s being serious.

“Anyways,” he continues, “they wouldn’t do that. That’s not even legal anymore, dumbass.”

Eddie laughs now. “We just spent like, two or three months dealing with illegal shit, and you’re gonna pull the legality card on me now?” He shoots back, shifting his gaze up at Richie with a grin on his face.

“Yeah, okay, you got me there. Seriously though-”

“Serious? That’s a first-”

“Shut up!” Richie ruffles Eddie’s hair playfully rough in response. “I was gonna say, you don’t have anything to worry about. Maturin called you a hero, you basically have immunity now.”

Eddie quirks an eyebrow in disbelief.

“Really?”

“Well, yeah. Her Ability is Truth, man, everyone knows it. And she just told the world she thinks you’re a hero; that means she trusts you.”

Eddie ponders that implication for a moment. He doesn’t know much about this commander, but he knows she exuded a sense of importance since the second he met her. And she thinks… he’s a hero? Huh. It’s almost laughable, really. In response, he hums.

There’s a beat of silence before Richie, as usual, fills it.

“I agree with her.” Eddie’s expression must show his confusion, because Richie continues. “That you’re a hero, I mean.”

Eddie shakes his head, beginning to scoff, but he’s cut off by a finger to his lips. He’s not sure what stops first; his mouth, or his heart.

“No, let me- I mean, you worked on this shit for months, Eds.  _ Months _ . It’s work I do too, but… I get paid to put my life on the line, you know? You just, did it anyway. You risked everything for those kids… and uh, and for me too…”

Richie trails off, and Eddie doesn’t really know what to say.

He notices the blush on Richie’s face- to be expected, with so much sincerity in one moment- and feels his heart clench with something new. Eddie’s used to feeling this way around Richie, and he knows damn well what it means, but now… now there’s two people who think he’s a hero.

_ Hero _ .

It’s a title he used to despise, quite honestly. Part of him still does.

Heroes are the people who get paid to be flashy. They’re the people who solve the big cases, take the credit, take the money, and go home; the people who ignore the small issues and the small people. Heroes are the ones who never saved him.

But… heroes are also people like Richie.

And Ben, Beverly, Mike… all the others.

People who  _ try _ .

Maybe it’s not the worst thing in the world to be. 

Eddie snaps back to reality, realizing he’s left Richie hanging for a few awkward moments too long.

“I’d do it again,” he finally responds, to which Richie appears bewildered for a moment. “I’d risk everything for you, no matter what.”

He means it.

The slow, dopey grin on Richie’s face is everything to him. Eddie wants to frame that expression in his mind forever.

“I’d- I’d risk it all for you too, Eds.”

The next moment seems to last forever. Eddie lets himself just… look. He looks at Richie, at the planes of his face- still youthful, but sharper than when he was a kid. He wanders over Richie’s stubble, his hard jawline, and up over his nose, right to his eyes- those hadn’t changed. Bright, just as they always had been. Eddie hadn’t stopped thinking about them since they first reunited in Don’s auto shop, and he especially hadn’t stopped thinking about them since he got to see them again today. 

After seeing Richie caught in the Deadlights, his eyes glossed over to nothing, Eddie never wants to take them for granted again.

Richie gazes back, of course, as lovestruck as can be, and Eddie doesn’t even try to hold himself back from leaning up and pressing their lips together.

It’s slow, gentle,  _ soft _ , and Eddie thinks he melts a bit as Richie’s arms tighten around him. His eyes shut as he lets a hand rest lightly on Richie’s jaw, and everything’s perfect-

“Ack!” Richie exclaims, pulling back with a start as Eddie’s face falls.

“Wh-”

Immediately, all kinds of horrible things whir through Eddie’s brain, ranging from how his breath probably smells to the worst case scenario- that this is just another joke Richie took too far.

“Fucking ouch, warn a guy!” Richie snaps, but it’s dotted with laughter and a grin on his face. Eddie’s confusion isn’t helped even a little bit, and Richie must notice. He gestures then, nodding to Eddie’s hand.

Which is glowing.

And had probably heated up a bit.

“Oh, fuck, I didn’t even-”

“Getting a little eager now, are we?” Richie cuts off the apology, and Eddie goes red.

_ It’s okay _ , is what that translates to. Oddly enough, that’s what calms Eddie’s racing thoughts.

“Shut up! I take it back, you suck and you’re smelly.”

With his now calmed hand, Eddie pushes Richie’s face away, smooshing his shit-eating grin as he sputters mindless insults he doesn’t believe.

“No, no no no, you can’t get rid of me now,” Richie retorts, his grip on Eddie’s waist stronger than Eddie’s attempts to pull away. In seconds, they’re face to face again; both grinning, both flustered. “I just got you back.”

“Fuck you,” Eddie says with endless adoration.

“Fuck you too, asswipe,” Richie responds with just as much love, and kisses him again, just as tender as the first time.

They’re too wrapped up in each other to notice the muffled voices in the hallway.

“Is this the room?”

“They said 317, of course this is the room.”

“Should we knock-?”

“No, they’ll probably be asleep, this isn’t normal visiting hours. Let’s just be quiet-”

That last bit, conscientiously spoken by Stan, is ungracefully cut off by Beverly all but kicking the door open.

“Knock knock-” She announces, earning surprised gasps from both boys as they leap apart from each other.

Eddie nearly ends up on the floor, but he keeps his balance enough to stay on the edge of Richie’s bed. He does not, however, end up in any less compromising of a position. 

“Oh- I didn’t mean to interrupt!” Beverly chirps, to which Stan rolls his eyes.

“You very deliberately meant to interrupt, I literally  _ just _ suggested to be quiet-” he mutters, but a quick smack to the arm shuts him up.

Eddie hides his red face in his hands, his back to the others in shame- although, maybe he shouldn’t be. He  _ did _ happen to admit he loved Richie in the heat of a battle… now  _ that _ was embarrassing.

Richie laughs anyway, good-natured as always.

“Yeah yeah, just feel lucky you interrupted where you did. Ten more minutes and who knows what you would’ve seen!”

Eddie knows it’s a joke, but he heats up anyway, smacking Richie’s arm a few times in quick succession with a glowing hand.

“Beep fucking beep! Shut up asshole!”

Richie protests through laughter, squirming as far as he can to the other side of the bed while various other chuckles ring throughout the room as well. 

It’s surprisingly calm then, for a bit. Chit-chat as the group catches up, as Bill frets over them and as Bev tells them how awesome they were in battle; as Ben sighs in relief and Stan says he’s thankful that they’re all okay. 

Finally, Mike asks how they did it, and is subsequently in awe as the two explain.

“You must have had to be in perfect sync for that!” He fawns, and for the first time that day, Eddie notices Richie blush as well.

“Yeah, well, guess we’ve gotten pretty good at that, eh Spagheds?”

“Oh that’s such an ugly nickname please don’t.”

The banter is as easy as breathing, but Eddie’s mind sticks on Mike’s comment. He remembers it clearly now, just how connected they had to be to pull that off. He doesn’t think he could’ve done that with anyone else, but he doesn’t say so.

“I’m sorry for attacking you Eddie,” Bill chimes in before Eddie and Richie can get too caught in a back-and-forth. His tone is a bit more on the serious side, as are his words; he’s sincere, as always. 

Eddie shakes his head with a reassuring smile.

“It’s okay, Bill, I get it.”

“Still, I am. I just believed what the Agency told us, I thought you were evil... I didn’t know you were a hero.”

There’s a silence for a moment that’s likely only heavy to Eddie.

“I’m not.”

Bill looks at him, confused. So, he shrugs and continues.

“I’m not a hero. I’m not registered, or trained, or licensed… I mean, you know how I feel- how I  _ felt _ about heroes before you guys.”

Bill nods in understanding.

“Well, you could be one. Maturin thinks so, I think so-”

“ _ We _ think so,” Mike corrects, earning assenting nods from the rest of the group.

Eddie wants to think it’s sweet… hell, it  _ is _ sweet, it’s a group of respected professionals telling him he should also be respected, but it doesn’t feel like that. He knows why, of course; he’d spent his whole life only seeing heroes as pompous assholes, and he still has the connotation stuck in his brain. He’d never seen anybody try to redeem the phrase… so, maybe he doesn’t think he’s able to. What makes him so worthy?

The smiles around the room fade before Eddie says anything in response. It takes Richie’s hand wrapping around his own with a gentle squeeze, to pull him out of it. He’s able to manage a smile then, along with a weak ‘thanks’.

Richie moves the conversation along quickly after that, and Eddie could not be more thankful for him.

It’s nice to see the others and converse with them. Even with hero clearance, though, they’re ushered from the hospital room after an hour.

Eddie is grateful to have some peace once they’re gone.

He’s grateful to be able to fall asleep in Richie’s arms, even if his mind keeps mulling over the same thing over and over again.

A hero, huh?

...

The next day, the two are released to go home. 

It's… odd. 

Eddie spends a good portion of the morning thinking about asking to go home with Richie instead of heading back to his own shoddy apartment. But, before he can open his mouth to ask, Richie seems to have another idea. They're both wheeled outside- the dumbest rule ever, to be quite honest- and once they're free, Richie turns to him.

"Wanna get breakfast?"

Eddie doesn’t think twice about his answer. Grin on his face and love in his eyes, he gives an enthusiastic “hell yeah.”

They end up at Eddie’s favorite cafe, somewhere they’d gone together not long after they first reunited again, and a few times after that. It’s always been a comfortable, cozy little place to him, but with Richie it’s even better. Domestic, almost.

Being with him is as easy as breathing.

Eddie curls up happily in his favorite chair, Richie across from him. It’s not a date, but honestly? It feels better than that; like they’re past that phase, and now it’s understood that they’re beyond that. 

Actually, no; it’s not  _ like _ that. It is that. And, Eddie couldn’t be happier about it.

A breakfast sandwich for each of them, and a heart attack in a cup for Eddie while Richie goes for a hot chocolate instead. It’s a cloudy day out, some drizzles of rain here and there, but it’s far from unwelcome; Eddie thinks it adds to the atmosphere, and he thinks Richie would agree.

At first, it's a comfortable silence; but not long into their time together, Eddie catches a glimpse of the news on the back wall television. It’s not necessarily unwelcome, but…

_ “-Former villain known as ‘Photon’ is  _ actually  _ a hero, a statement confirmed by Agency Commander Maturin just days ago-” _

_ “-It is unknown if he is employed at this Agency, but time will tell-” _

_ “-Some being excited for his official debut, while others express doubts-” _

It’s a lot.

Richie catches on easily. He always does.

“Hey,” he soothes, pulling Eddie’s attention away from the program and back to him. “They just want something to report on, y’know? And let’s face it Spaghetti Head, we’re pretty big news right now.”

Eddie tries to scoff, but he huffs a laugh instead, knowing Richie’s right.

But still… it weighs on his mind. Even as they chat, as Richie changes the subject- something he’s basically an expert in by now- the thought is there.  _ Hero _ . 

He never wanted to be attached to that word before.

But Richie’s a hero. Ben, Beverly, Mike and Bill and Stan… they’re heroes.

Could it really be so bad?

After breakfast, they take a walk, and the fresh air is more than welcome. It doesn’t quite clear Eddie’s mind, but his hand held tightly within richie’s own works pretty well.

They end up at Richie’s apartment building, and Eddie enters under a wordless understanding that he’s welcome, wanted, and…

Well, loved. 

* * *

The night is like a dream, which lasts into the next day, and into the next week. It’s perfect, wonderful, it’s-

Well, Richie doesn’t like to kiss and tell.

He also doesn’t like that he’s expected to be back at work Monday morning, though. Almost killed in battle and all he gets is a week off? Bullshit! Hell, the building is still mostly in tatters anyway; how they plan for anyone to work is beyond him. He plans to complain to HR upon arrival and demand extra PTO hours in return. Or maybe a raise for almost dying on the job.

Although, as he looks around his apartment in the morning before he has to leave, he knows he doesn't really need it. He likes where he lives and how he lives; well off enough to be comfortable, to indulge in some weird hobbies and interests, yadda yadda. His furniture is pretty nice, his fridge stocked, his sheets soft.

But, the best thing he has in his apartment is laying on his bed, hair soft and ruffled and lips parted just a bit. A thin trail of drool leaks from Eddie's mouth onto Richie's pillow, and the latter fights not to take a picture. Richie follows the gentle rise and fall of Eddie’s chest for a few moments, allowing himself to enjoy a quiet morning.

He'd always thought it was quite a sight to see Eddie fully relaxed like this; like in this state, he could let go of those ever-constant worries that Richie always knew he had. It’s a type of serenity that he wants to see more of, every day.

Finally, Richie very reluctantly drags himself out of the bedroom, shuffling to the kitchen to brew a pot of coffee. As he scoops the blend into his brewer, something comes up behind him, and suddenly he's surrounded in warmth. Maybe the suddenness would've scared him if he didn't immediately recognize that it’s Eddie wrapping him in a blanket-hug.

"G'mornin' sunshine," he greets, to which Eddie grunts.

He's still grumpy in the mornings too; another thing that hadn't changed.

Eddie has Richie's comforter wrapped around his shoulders, like a cape that's twice his size. It warmly envelops Richie too when Eddie latches onto him like a koala. He manages to get the coffee brewing somehow despite Eddie draping off his shoulders, then turns around in his arms, returning the embrace.

Eddie's eyes aren't even open as he rests his head on Richie’s chest.

_ Cute, cute, cute! _

"What, you have a late night or something?" He jabs, again to be met with a grunt.

"Asshole," Eddie grumbles in response. "Don't ruin it. 'S a good morning."

Richie's heart melts a little.

"Think I can call out of work if someone is cute enough to give me a heart attack?" He mumbles, pressing little kisses to Eddie's hair.

"That's not how anything works, doesn’t even make sense." Eddie pulls back just enough to give a sleepy glare as he says it- or, maybe his eyes are still adjusting to being open. With him, it could be either or. 

Richie leans down anyway, one finger on Eddie's chin to tilt his head up, and meets him with a kiss. A fond smile sits on his face as he pulls back, his heart aching as he remembers he needs to leave soon.

"I wish I didn't have work. Could just stay here all day, being lazy…" he muses.

Eddie scoffs. "We've been staying here being lazy all week."

"Yeah, what's a few more days?"

"They're gonna fucking fire you," Eddie counters, affection in his voice as Richie peppers kisses along his cheeks.

"Not if I quit."

Eddie pulls back then, his hands resting heavy on Richie's shoulders as his expression suddenly turns serious.

"Don't even joke about that, you love your job."

Richie shrugs. He really is joking, for the most part.

"Well, yeah, but the whole underground corruption thing doesn't make me the most excited to go back. Besides, it’s taking away my Spaghetti time-"

"No- Rich, is this a conversation we need to have?"

Ah fuck, he's serious. Richie takes a breath.

"No. After everything, you know I love what I do. I just like spending time with you. Maybe I'll petition for a Take Your Eddie To Work Day, huh?"

With that, the lightness returns to the conversation. Eddie whaps him on the arm before pulling back.

"Fat chance. But…” Eddie almost looks bashful, gaze flitting just for a moment. “Are you allowed a lunch visitor, maybe?"

The question takes Richie back a bit. Honestly, he hadn't thought Eddie would want to even go  _ near _ that place anymore. Richie’s already hesitant enough about it himself. 

The fact that Eddie wants to go despite whatever anxieties are surely there puts a big, dopey grin on Richie’s face. He surges forward, wrapping Eddie in a too-tight hug and picking him up.

“Of course I am! Especially one as cute cute cute as you!” Richie cooes as Eddie groans and protests to be put down.

Richie complies, eventually, but not without ruffling Eddie’s hair once he’s back on the ground.

“When do you go on break?”

Richie shrugs. “I can go any time. How’s noon? Noon-thirty to be safe?”

Eddie snorts in response. “That’s not a real time.” He pauses for a moment, smiling before he adds, “I’ll be there.”

* * *

Eddie shows up about fifteen minutes early. Punctual, of course. Not at all anxiety.

He’s nervous to be there, sure, but more so he’s excited to see Richie and his friends. Plus, after defeating that monstrosity, Eddie feels like he could probably handle anything with Richie and the others by his side. 

He doesn’t have to break in this time, which is… weird. He enters the lobby and is buzzed up to the office floor after showing identification. Someone at the front desk even thanks him for saving their agency, which is… also weird. It’s all weird, everything is weird. Recognition, especially, is perhaps the weirdest.

It’s not like Eddie didn’t have any friends besides the Losers! He had… Well, Don counts. Bosses can count. And Adrian! And that one nice Barista who knows his order by heart, Kay, she’s… 

Okay, so Eddie hadn’t really been the best at making friends. He’d had other priorities, he didn’t want to risk being found out, and friends just didn't fit into his lifestyle. Mingling, socializing, he isn’t really used to any of that anymore.

So, naturally, being thanked around several corners feels pretty odd to him.

Maybe he could get used to smiles like that aimed his way, though. That part isn't anything to complain about.

He boards the elevator with a bag in hand, containing two sandwiches from a place nearby he knows Richie loves. That plus some doritos might be lame for some, but Eddie knows Richie enough to know it'll be a hit with him.

He smiles to himself as he reaches the office floor. Stepping out of the elevator though, he realizes that the space is a little… well, surreal. People are working as usual, but there's construction pretty much  _ everywhere _ . How anyone is working without going insane is beyond him.

But, before he can dwell on it, he's being wrapped in a hug, attacked from the side by a fiery redhead with a killer grip. Beverly happily exclaims "Eddie!" as she traps him, and is quickly followed by Ben and Mike in a group hug. Bill attaches awkwardly to the outside of the circle as Stan looks on fondly from the side. And, finally, Eddie hears his favorite voice.

"Hey, hey hey! You're-a hoggin' all-a the spaghetti!" Comes Richie's horrifically accurate Mario voice. It somehow parts the crowd enough that he can wrap his arms around Eddie too.

"Hello to you guys too," Eddie manages from inside the circle. Apparently, the nerves in his voice are evident.

“What, not used to a hero’s welcome?” Beverly asks, innocently enough. Eddie’s not sure he has the words to describe how he feels about it. 

He chuckles, albeit awkwardly.

“Six losers hugging me is a hero’s welcome?” He shoots back. “Weak.”

Beverly laughs, smacking his arm.

“He’s probably here to talk to Maturin and get everything settled,” Stan adds, making his way over to the group. 

Well, that’s news to Eddie. He quirks his head to the side. “Huh?”

“I mean, to set you up here and everything.”

Eddie’s gaze flicks to Richie in response to Stan’s ‘explanation’, though he is completely silent. The look on his face is just as puzzled, though, and maybe more nervous than what Eddie feels.

Talk about awkward.

“Actually uh, I’m just here for lunch.” Eddie raises his bag to emphasize. “That’s all.”

He doesn’t miss how Stan’s expression falls, and he  _ hates _ knowing that it’s not because he’s embarrassed.

It’s because he’s disappointed.

Because he’d assumed, which meant the others- minus Richie- had  _ also _ probably assumed that Eddie… that he would  _ want _ to-

But why would he? What the hell would make them think that? He never said he wanted to be a hero! In fact, he very explicitly said that he  _ wasn’t _ one… so what the hell?

Beverly and Ben exchange nervous glances, but behind them, Stan simply smiles.

“It’s good to see you anyway. And if you change your mind, you know where to find us-”

“Stan!” Richie interrupts, hissing his name and elbowing him at the same time. He clears his throat, and along with it, tries to clear the tension. “Okay okay, enough of the peanut gallery, now you’re  _ really _ cutting into my spaghetti time. We’ll be in the wrecked to hell office lounge and if you need me, then don’t. Now bye!” He calls to the rest of them as he takes Eddie’s hand.

And, honestly? Eddie’s grateful for it. He doesn’t like being the one to rain on peoples’ parades, or the one to break the awkward tension. Richie’s just so much better at it anyway.

Eddie's more than happy to be led away, even if they end up in a shitty-looking break room. It was nice once, surely, but now its walls are merely frames and it consists of barely held together furniture. Still, it beats whatever tension was going on out there. Once they're safely in the room, Eddie takes it upon himself to sink into a chair, plopping the bag on the scratched-up table in front of him.

"Thanks," he tells Richie, who sits beside him.

"Don't thank me, they really were cutting into my spaghetti time."

Richie helps himself to the contents of the bag, squealing- yes, actually squealing- in delight after realizing it's one of his favorites. Eddie couldn't wipe his own smile off his face if he tried.

"Still, you know what I mean." 

Eddie shares a look with him, and he knows Richie understands.

"Yeah." 

There's an unusually long silence then, as they both unwrap their sandwiches and as Richie takes a bite. Surprisingly, he waits until he swallows before speaking up again.

"They're not wrong, though. No pressure of course, but… You'd always be welcome here, Eds."

He takes another bite then, as if his words were a casual offering, and Eddie feels uneasy.

But… maybe it's not because he doesn't want to be here.

He wills himself not to think about how easy it is to be around Richie here as he finishes eating. He wills the same as he meets up with the others again, takes a small tour of their floor, and leaves.

He tries not to think about how it might be nice to be a hero with them, too.

* * *

The week Richie goes back to work, so does Eddie. Except, Eddie doesn't have to risk his life with what he does, thankfully. He gets to work with cars, which Richie knows he loves! He knows Eddie loves his job.

So, no matter how good a hero Eddie would be, Richie decides not to push.

But… it's hard.

Richie doesn't know everything about Eddie's life as Photon, but he knows he spent a lot of his time doing what he did. Investigating, fighting, saving. He knows it all became a part of Eddie’s self identity- hell, Richie had gone through the same thing when he was first starting out as a hero. 

He knows damn well how it becomes a part of you, and how hard it is to just quit something like that. It’s why he never stopped, even when he was given the chance to. As he was freed from his training facility, he could’ve chosen a normal life, and so could any of the Losers. They didn’t want to.

They all wanted to keep saving people.

Richie thinks Eddie is probably the same way, that he never really wanted to stop being Photon.

Eddie basically lives with Richie now, which couldn't be better. But, it gives Richie some new insight. Richie hasn't pointed it out, but Eddie seems… well, off. He works from 8am to 4pm, Monday through Friday, one hour lunch break. It's the same thing every day. Monotonous.

In short, he can tell Eddie is bored as fuck.

About two weeks into this routine, Richie comes home to Eddie furiously doing some kind of workout- an insane pushup-burpee-jumping jack combination, done way faster than any human being should be doing anything.

He places his keys on a hook next to his door before taking a second to simply watch in amusement.

"Whatcha up to Eds?"

Eddie looks up, but doesn't stop.

"Just… expending some energy…" he responds through quick, measured breaths. Richie quirks an eyebrow.

"Okay… entertain me, how long have you been at this?"

Eddie doesn't even look up this time.

"What time is it?"

"Ten."

"That would… be… three hours?"

"Fucking christ-" Richie huffs, striding over quickly and placing a hand on Eddie's shoulders mid-jumping jack. "You need to stop. How are you even still standing?!"

Eddie pants for a moment, a bead of sweat on his forehead that he doesn’t even bother to wipe away. Although, he's not nearly as sweaty as Richie would expect. Sometimes he forgets the side effects of Eddie's Ability… oh.

He was literally expending energy. 

Energy, as in his Ability.

Eddie shrugs. 

"I just, haven't done much since the incident, y'know? It's like… I need to do something. Not even like… I mean, physically I have all this- this power, I literally haven't used it in weeks, so-"

"Hey," Richie interrupts. "You don't need to explain yourself. I forget the toll your Ability takes on you sometimes," he explains, and it's not a lie. But, there's deeper concern there, too.

Eddie is restless. It's more than just boredom, and it's more than just his Ability.

Richie knows he wants to work again. 

Richie knows he wants to be Photon again.

After a few moments of silence, Richie gestures to the bedroom.

"Why don't we both get cleaned up and head to bed? I'm bushed, I'm sure you are too."

He tilts Eddie's head up, looking into his eyes and diving in for a quick peck of a kiss. He's sure about the answer he's going to get. But then…

"No thanks. I mean, yes, but I think… I'm gonna go for a run first."

Eddie kisses him back, of course, like nothing is wrong. And maybe nothing is, but as Richie watches him head out into the night, he can't help his concern. He doesn't want to push Eddie into anything… he knows it's not his place, but…

He sees how restless Eddie is.

It would be nice to work alongside him again.

...

Richie keeps his thoughts to himself for another week, until he and Eddie sit down for a Sunday breakfast.

They start as they always do, chit-chatting about random things- a TV show, some asshole customer at Eddie’s job, something funny on Twitter, the like. 

“It’s like, ‘when you don’t need a hero but wanna see that fine ass in uniform’, with a picture of Ben and a picture of a fuckin’ alarm,” Richie babbles. “I lost my shit, and…” He trails off, leaving the thought behind as he notices Eddie’s blank stare. “And are you okay?”

Eddie snaps his head up then, eyes wide as he realizes he’d been zoning out. “No- I mean yes- Sorry.” He shakes his head. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to space out there. Tell me again?”

As thoughtful as that was, Richie’s a bit more concerned with whatever was preoccupying Eddie’s mind than a meme he’d already sent to the group chat.

“What’s on your mind, Spaghetti Man? I’ll give you a meme raincheck, spill me your woes.”

Eddie’s lips quirk into a smile, though his gaze returns to the table. What he says next is something that takes Richie completely off guard.

“Do you really think I could be a hero?”

Richie’s brows furrow upwards, expression almost comical. The hell kind of question is that for someone who’d been avoiding all hero talk for weeks?

“Wh- of course I do Eds, I wouldn’t joke about that. You’re already more of a hero than most other assholes I see out there.” 

It’s true. Some people really should just quit. Like, that one shapeshifting hero who does fucking commercials for weight loss? So pathetic he could cry. Or, maybe write a comedy skit about it…

Eddie doesn’t respond for a moment.

“No, I mean… like, yeah I could do the work. But… don’t you think… if people don’t like me, I won’t be successful.” Richie gives him a look, so he continues. “You need the public to actually like you to be a hero! You- you need to be seen as someone who can save them, and…”

Ah.

“You don’t think people are going to like you?”

Eddie shrugs in response, exaggerated and defensive. Richie notices he’s been doing that a lot lately, like he’s unsure of himself. Richie… doesn’t quite understand it. What’s there to be unsure of? In his eyes, Eddie is perfect. He can’t imagine anyone seeing him differently.

“Well, yeah! I was a villain, Rich, that’s what they called me. People know me as the guy who murdered kids-”

“They cleared your name, Eds. It’s all over the news that you were framed-”

“But how can they be sure!” Eddie yells.

Richie’s silent for a moment; not because he’s upset, but because he didn’t realize how much Eddie had been thinking about this. 

Richie had always known how Eddie’s mind worked. He gets something in his head and thinks about it until it’s some impossibly horrific scenario. When they were kids, it was disease; AIDS, pneumonia, and whatever else his mom had told him he should be scared of. It was fear of getting hurt, or killed, or anything that meant he’d be blocked from moving forward- his mom, his house, his room. 

His fears weren’t always unsubstantiated, but they always caused him way more stress than he needed. It’s the same now, Richie thinks.

After a moment or so, Eddie continues.

“I mean,  _ we _ know I didn’t do it but… after all this, you know people are gonna have their doubts. If they don’t trust me, then-”

“They’ll learn.”

Richie feels a little bad about cutting him off, but he continues anyway.

“The more you’re out there… the more you  _ save _ people, Eds,  _ that’s _ how you earn trust. Nobody goes into this field already having proved themselves. You think people liked me right away?”

As he says it, he realizes he hadn’t really told Eddie a lot about his early days as a hero.

And, apparently, Eddie realizes the same thing. He quiets down then, visibly more subdued than before.

“No.” He says simply, bringing his eyes up to meet Richie’s; eyes that he knows Richie would do anything for. “Tell me.”

They smile at the same time.

With a grunt, Richie gets up from the table, grabbing the coffee pot and refilling both mugs.

“We’re gonna be here a while.”

* * *

Eddie doesn’t stop thinking about it.

The being a hero thing as a whole, of course, but specifically… Richie’s story. 

He’d known the gist, of course. He and Richie had exchanged stories the night they discovered each others’ identities. Richie told him a lot about he and the others’ time in the facility, but he hadn’t gone very far beyond that. 

This time, though, Richie explained it all.

_ We were allowed to stay in the facility once the government lifted the mandates. Or, we could go home. But if we stayed, we could become licensed, you know? We’d already had all the necessary training for it, all we had to do was go through a test and some practice runs. Most of the others with us left, but we stuck together and went on. _

_ We started out as a team, but we were still basically kids. What adult wants fucking 18 year olds fighting their battles? _

Richie chuckled then. Despite the trauma of it all, he seemed to look back on this part fondly. And, Eddie could understand; he sees his own past the same way. The day he escaped was still a nice memory for him, even though he had next to nothing besides a boatload of trauma to carry as he left.

_ Kids thought we were really cool, y’know? But adults thought we were playing cops and robbers. Until we started saving ‘em, of course. The bigger the villains, the less the police could do, so they had to rely on us. I bet you can still find it online, I know there were videos when we fought that mutant guy at the Empire State Building, that was fucking nuts. _

He’d chuckled again then, remembering it like a sports game.

_ People were scared, and we helped. And we kept doing it, again and again, whether or not they liked us. That’s how you earn trust, Eds. _

It’s silly, when Eddie thinks about it. 

He’d never cared what people thought about him. That’s why he did his work in the dark, underground; he didn’t need praise, recognition, and he was fine with people assuming he was a vigilante or a villain. When he didn’t have a label, it was fine.

But he has the option now.

He knows he’s not as brave as Richie; he knows he can’t face the world without fear like he could. Richie always put himself out there, he’d always been ambitious, and he’d always worked unapologetically towards his goals. 

Richie never cared about what others thought of him, because only a select few were really important to him.

Eddie wishes he could be more like that.

But he’s scared. He’s scared to be licensed, he’s scared to adopt the hero title, he’s scared to read the critical headlines and hear the opinions of ruthless journalists and even more ruthless civilians. He’s terrified.

But he wants to help, despite that.

As Eddie meets Richie for lunch again, the same thing is on his mind; the same story, those same words. And, the same dilemma.

The others have calmed down the hero talk for the most part, having gathered that it was bothering him. Or, maybe Richie had talked to them about it. Either way, it's nice that he doesn't have to worry about it with them… so he can just worry about it with himself. Sigh.

As he steps off the elevator, he's greeted by Richie, along with Ben and Stan. The others are either still on duty, or finishing up paperwork, but it's nice to see who he can anyway. They're all so busy with their jobs that Eddie barely gets to see them. Of course, he can't blame them though; Eddie knows damn well it's a lot of work.

Catching up is always nice, although Eddie can't help but feel a pang in his chest whenever Richie brings up something he and Ben had done on patrol, or when they share a laugh about how one of them scared a young teenager trying to cause trouble. He wants to hear it all, he does! But more so, he wants… he wants to  _ be _ there.

As lunch wraps up, Eddie says goodbye to Richie and Ben, who have some type of meeting. He's left then with Stan for a few moments before he has to leave, back to Don's shop.

It's good though! It's good. He likes his job.

Eddie only notices he's zoning out as Stan’s gaze starts burning a hole through him- figuratively, of course. Laser eyes aren't quite his thing.

"What, lettuce in my teeth?" 

Stan maintains his gaze.

"Something's bothering you," Stan says simply. It's a statement, an observation rather than a question. 

Eddie sighs, knowing damn well there's no point in arguing.

"Yeah. It's-" 

He's going to say 'fine', but Stan gets there first.

"Not fine. You want to join us, don't you?"

Eddie's stunned.

He sputters for a moment, thinking of an excuse and tripping over his words in a way that would definitely have Richie joking about a Bill impression. Giving up before he even starts his counter, Eddie sighs.

"Yeah."

"Then why don't you?"

The way Stan phrases things always makes Eddie question himself, his feelings and actions. But, not in a bad way; Stan was always the one who could put things into perspective, the one who could provide the missing piece to the puzzle.

"I spent so long underground, and then I was a known 'villain', and… I don't know. I'm, I guess I'm scared, Stan."

"Of what?"

God. He's so calm it's infuriating. Eddie sighs sharply.

"Of what people are going to think of me.” That’s… not quite it, but it’s close enough. If people don’t like him, then whatever. But he knows if enough people don’t perceive him well, then he’ll tank.

Stan is calm as he pulls out his phone, quickly typing something.

“Stan, what the fu-”

“Here.”

Stan slides his phone over to Eddie, ignoring the outburst, and Eddie’s gaze is immediately drawn to what’s on the screen.

It’s some sort of news blog, and the title of the first article is ‘Fuck Hero Phoenix’- Stan’s hero name. On the side, there are tags for each of the others, and each leads to pages upon pages of criticisms of his friends.

Eddie’s fucking furious.

“What- what the fuck do these assholes think- if they think they can handle a situation better then  _ they _ should try! Ben destroys too much infrastructure with his Ability, what fucking bull- he fixes everything! Would people rather die than-”

Eddie keeps ranting. The more headlines he sees, the more enraged he gets. Of course, none of them are official news sites, just opinion pieces, but it’s still enough to infuriate him.

After he’s scrolled through a few, he looks away from the screen, shaking his head.

“That’s bull. That’s absolute bull, Stan, I’m sorry you have to go through that-”

“And yet, it’s still worth it.” Stan interrupts- he’s perhaps the only person in the world who could interrupt calmly, Eddie thinks.

“It’s- what’s still worth it?”

Stan smiles.

“Being a hero. Saving people, even if some of them don’t like us.” 

Oh.

Eddie is stunned into silence as Stan continues.

“Some of what they have to say makes sense, too. If we should be more careful, or if we’re overlooking things. We’ve gotten people to change their opinions on us. But I don’t think that’s the point, anyway, and neither do you.” He’s right. “You want to save people. You have a good heart, Eddie. I see it. We all see it.”

Stan’s gaze is a little much now, and Eddie finds himself looking down.

“Yeah, well…”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m not trying to force you into anything, I just thought you might need to hear that.”

When Eddie meets Stan’s eyes again, he’s still smiling, something characteristically serene.

“I… yeah. Thanks.”

Eddie feels… well, he’s not so sure. But he means what he says.

Stan gets up then, offering a wave before he turns in the opposite direction. 

“I’ll see you around, I’m sure. Get back to work safe.”

Eddie smiles back.

“Yeah. Will do, Stan the Man.”

* * *

Another week later, Richie sits on his living room couch, bored out of his mind. It’s a Sunday- his day off, and Eddie’s too. But, Eddie’s nowhere to be found.

Early in the morning, while Richie was half-awake making coffee, he said that he had to go out for a bit. Richie didn’t press, mostly because he was too tired to even be curious. But, hours later, and he wants his Eddie back.

He texted a few times, once to be annoying-  _ get ur cute ass back here im bored-  _ and once because he was actually curious-  _ whatcha up to? _ It had been a few hours without a response.

Being in his line of work, and happening to care endlessly about this little asshole, Richie can’t help but worry a bit. 

At the four hour mark- 1pm- he really starts to worry.

_ >eds, not to be a dick but id love to know that youre not dead in a ditch somewhere lol _

At the five hour mark, he goes to message the Losers group chat, but he hears a key turning in the lock before he hits send.

He feels pretty stupid about it all as soon as Eddie walks through the door, too.

Quickly, he pretends to be asleep, snoring loudly for a few moments before pretending to jolt awake. 

“Wh- could it be? My dearest darlin’ back from the war?” He says in a southern belle voice as he meets Eddie’s eyes. “It is, by golly it is!”

Eddie laughs.

Richie loves the sound more than anything in the world.

“Hey, sorry I was gone so long,” he says in response, toeing off his shoes.

He walks over to Richie, curling up next to him on the couch. But, he doesn’t offer any more explanation. He doesn’t even open his arms for a usual hug- fucking rude!

And, honestly, fucking weird.

The way Eddie acts is almost reserved, like there’s something he’s not saying. Richie can’t resist the urge to poke at it and figure out just what that something is. Call it a compulsion, he calls it curiosity. And curiosity is healthy! It is!

“So what had the audacity to take my Spagheds away from me for five hours?” 

He raises an eyebrow in playful accusation, to which Eddie averts his gaze.

That’s… also weird. He’s being weird.

“It was uh, actually…” Eddie trails off. 

Curiosity can so easily lead to anxiety. Richie understands that now as his heart rate starts picking up. What the hell is going on that Eddie is so hesitant to tell him about? The endless possibilities do nothing to calm him for the few seconds before Eddie continues.

Instead of explaining with words, he pulls a card from his jacket pocket. It’s the size of a half-sheet of paper, and vaguely official-looking. He hands it to Richie without words, so Richie reads it just as silently.

On it is some of Eddie’s basic information- name, address (which is Richie’s now), contact information. And then, Ability information… aliases, and a checked box reading “adequate prior experience”. Finally, at the bottom of the page, there’s a date, about a month away.

Richie realizes as he sees various signatures, Eddie’s included, that it’s something important.

As he glances to the top of the card, he notices that it bears the logo of his hero agency.

And, right below the date, in bold letters, he reads:

_ Provisional Hero Licensure Exam _

He quickly looks back up at Eddie, who’s wearing a bashful smile on his face.

“What- when did you decide-” Richie stammers, somewhere between shocked and fucking ecstatic. 

“I’ve been mulling it over, and today was the first day I felt brave enough to go-”

“AND YOU DIDN’T TELL ME, YOU LITTLE DICKASS?” Richie cuts him off, his loud voice carrying nothing but affection. It always does, for Eddie.

“I was worried I’d chicken out! I didn’t want to get your hopes up if I wasn’t sure-”

Richie leaps up then, wrapping Eddie in a bear hug which leads to him cutting off his own words with a yelp. The room is filled with laughter as Richie spins him around, feeling giddy and light and as excited as a kid.

“This is- this is huge! This is amazing! You’re gonna- with me- and with everyone- did you tell the others? We need to tell the others- you’re- well you’ve always been- and you have to pass but I know you will you’re so damn brave and-” Richie rambles. 

He couldn’t even conceptualize half the things spilling out of his own mouth in his jumbled excitement, but he knew Eddie would understand his messy words anyway. Eddie always got him in a way no one else did.

After a minute or so, Richie finally lets him down, only for Eddie to cling to him immediately afterwards.

They stay like that for a good while, all smiles, and maybe some emotions too.

(And some kissing).

Richie helps him through the process of training and studying, because he knows the procedures like the back of his hand.

They tell the others, and Bev nearly sets a restaurant on fire in her glee.

Stan, the little bastard, looks like he already knew this was gonna happen.

Eddie works hard, to no one’s surprise. 

By the end of the month, he’s licensed to practice under professional supervision.

This ends up taking some figuring-out, of course. Richie and Ben had been partners for years, but… Eddie needs one of them in order to do anything, and Richie’s sure as hell not gonna let some rando hero in the agency do the job.

It works out, though; apparently, Stan had really hit it off with Patty up in the detective sector, and accepted a position with them.

He’s part of the team still, of course, but he no longer patrols with Beverly.

Ben doesn’t really have a choice on whether or not to be her partner; she requests him by name.

So, in the end, it’s Richie and Eddie, working as a team.

It feels right.

* * *

When is it time to stop being nervous about everything?

When. Eddie wants to know when. Give him a date.

He was nervous when he met with Maturin, finally and officially asking for a position at the agency. He was nervous as he resigned from the auto shop, he was nervous as he took the exam, as he toured the building, as he was given a desk.

And, as he’s about to go on his first call with Richie, he’s nearly shaking.

The uniform he dons is unfamiliar, although still designed by Adrian- the agency had been impressed with his work and ended up hiring him. He’d barely gotten a chance to test it out, though! Professional grade fabrics, complete with an actual eye mask rather than some shitty dollar store face mask.

It doesn’t look too much different from Adrian’s original design, either, but it’s not designed for a vigilante this time. It’s designed for a  _ hero _ . It has pockets, it has a utility belt like the rest of the Losers’ uniforms, it has sturdy boots and strong seams. It’s made to withstand everything, and it’s fucking cool as hell, but Eddie can’t help but wonder if he’s fit to wear something like this.

The call he’s responding to isn’t anything minor, either- someone with a size and strength-based Ability had gone on a sort of rampage downtown, and they need a power duo to stop it; that is, Richie for a strong defense, and Eddie for a strong attack.

The city commission asked for them by name in their emergency call.

An agency transport drops them off as close as possible to the site, but Eddie shakes the whole time, anxieties striking his mind like arrows. The only thing that calms him as they’re about to deploy is Richie’s hand on his. 

“Hey. We’ve been through worse, yeah?” Richie assures, and Eddie nods as he squeezes his hand a little tighter. “Just focus on what you do best, saving the day with your handsome partner.”

Eddie laughs at that, and the resulting smile on Richie’s face gives him the courage he needs to step out of the transport.

They’re on the ground then, right outside police barricades, crowds of journalists and civilians alike gathered to watch the scene unfold.

And suddenly, eyes are on him.

And he wants to run.

“Hey- hey, isn’t that Photon?” Someone in the crowd shouts.

“It’s Photon!”

“The rumors are true!”

Eddie freezes for a moment, shell shocked.

The chatter in the crowd isn’t mean… they’re… excited? And, soon enough, some of them even turn into cheers.

Richie is all charisma as he waves to them with one hand, and grabs Eddie’s hand with the other.

“See?” He murmurs. “I told you they were gonna love you. Now let’s go kick some ass.”

It’s all a relief.

It’s all the reassurance Eddie needs.

He’s faced isolation, abuse, corruption, and death. He’s faced losing people, and losing himself. This, in comparison? Is nothing.

Eddie runs towards the scene of the chaos alongside Richie, his hands glowing as his eyes fade to white.

He thinks briefly of how much his mom would’ve hated this, of how she would’ve told him he’s too weak, that he won’t survive out there, that he should’ve just stayed safe here with her.

And, just as he had when he left, he gives a big mental  _ fuck you _ to her in his brain. Because he knows he’s brave now. He knows he’s loved, he knows he’s capable, and he knows he’s a hero.

He raises his hands, angling them towards the villain.

_ Boom. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOWOWOWOWOWIE!!!!  
> If you've made it this far then I love you!!! I've been trying for YEARS to actually finish a multichapter fic and I can't believe I finally did it, and in less than a year! This au is so special to me and it means so much that there are others out there who enjoyed my silly little idea.   
> If you have thoughts about this chapter, or this fic as a whole, I LOVE YOUR COMMENTS!!! Also, please come bother me on tumblr or insta, or on twitter if you're 18+! I would love to ramble!
> 
> I'll be back with more fics soon, even if they aren't multichaps! Thank you for sticking with me and my inconsistent updating schedule, I'm really happy to have made it this far!
> 
> Once again, thanks for reading <3 <3 <3

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this idea in mind for a long time and I'm excited to finally be publishing it!  
> Find me on [tumblr as TheFloralPeach](thefloralpeach.tumblr.com)  
> Listen to the [ Bird Set Free playlist here](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/7hhALiOI59e1RHjs0muq6j)  
> Listen to [ Richie's mixtape here](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/644XtmZs31kZ9u6lycLoOG)


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